The Newtonian Laws of Gravity
by AneleTiger
Summary: Imprinting. “It’s so hard to describe. It’s not like love at first sight, really. It’s more like gravity moves. When you see her suddenly it’s not the earth holding you there anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her." Jared. Embry. Jacob.
1. Preface

**The Newtonian Laws of Gravity**

_Imprinting. "It's so hard to describe. It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like gravity moves. When you see her suddenly it's not the earth holding you there anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her." (p. 176)_

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Actor and the Spectator (Jared/Kim) ………………………………Chapters 2 – 16  
The Fast and the Furious (Embry/OC) ………………………………………………… 17 - 29  
The Lost and the Found (Jacob/OC) …………………………………………………… 30 -

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PREFACE

Everyone knows how the story goes: Issac Newton sits under the apple tree, the apple falls and the bright idea of gravity pops into dear Newton's head.

"I deduced that the forces which keep the planets in their orbs must be reciprocally as the squares of their distances from the centers about which they revolve; and thereby compared the force requisite to keep the Moon in her orb with the force of gravity at the surface of the Earth; and found them answer pretty nearly."

Aka: each object in the known universe has a gravitational field. He came up with a formula and everything. Just plug in your weight and the weight of another object and find the gravitational force you exert on each other. Pretty neat. However, Newton did seem to have overlooked one significant detail in his theories.

For the werewolves of La Push, the gravitation full of gravity exerted by their imprintée is much more than one that can be calculated in between two people according to the Newtonian laws. So it seems dear old Newton may have been slightly wrong after all. But I'll let the werewolves tell you in their own words.

The Newtonian Laws of Gravity is going to be a compilation of several short stories (I have about four projected) in the view point of our favorite werewolves' imprintées. I'm projecting twelve or so chapters for each individual story.

First up, we're going to have Jared and Kim. Not a well known couple, by all means, but I'm curious to venture into their world. As far as I'm concerned, Jared's story is singularly interesting. Who else imprints on a girl who writes her name with his last name down among little doodle hearts? I decided to title their particular story: The Actor and the Spectator. For the idea for the title I humbly direct you to _Adonais_, a poem written by Percy Bysshe Shelly.

I do plan to follow up with more stories; I have a tentative idea for one starring our dearest Jacob, ideally titled: The Lost and the Found. And also one for our hot headed Paul. But these are still only ideas boarding at the station; we'll have to see how it goes.

As a parting statement, let me remind you that I write for my reviewers. If there is anything you have questions about, or something you want to see, please let me know, I'll be glad to indulge you. Oh, and the more reviews I get, the happier I am and the happier I am, the more I write. I always reply to reviews, don't be shy.

So. Sit down, relax, kick up your feet and enjoy the read!

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_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	2. The Actor and the Spectator 1

**Series:** The Newtonian Laws of Gravity

**Title:** The Actor and the Spectator

**Rating:** T

**Characters:** Jared/Kim

**Poem: **_Adonais_ by Percy Bysshe Shelly

**Disclaimer:** _Twilight_ belongs exclusively to Ms. Meyer; I only borrow her characters for my own amusement. The only Edward I have is a stuffed plushy.

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" **W**hence are we, and why are we?

Of what scene,

The actors or spectators**? "**

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I

See that girl sprinting like a woman possessed down the hill? With the spunky black hair, waving her hands in the air desperately?

That's me.

And that part of my life is called running after the school bus at seven in the morning.

My name is Kim Roue. And the bus with the chipped-off yellow paint is my only transportation short of walking five miles.

Luckily for me, the old bus driver happened to see me tripping over myself to catch up with the moving vehicle. Granted, he's old, hates kids and probably never passed his license test, but he's got quite the ear. Besides, my hoarse and desperate cries are not that difficult to miss.

Suffice to say that today started like any other day of my life.

La Push Reserve High School, LPHS for short, is just what you would imagine any High School on an Indian Reservation to be: worn yet sturdy buildings, small facilities, a huge recreational area, small student body and, of course, the tribal feeling. In other words, from the second you stepped into the giant atrium decorated with glaring examples of native art and our school emblem: a wolf, if you weren't Quileute you would probably start to feel slightly out of place. And in a school as small as this one, everyone knows your ancestry.

For example, there is Samantha Mallory near the stairs. She's leaning back on her hips, a slight smile on her lips and an innocently seductive glance behind her dark eyelashes. Samantha Mallory: Quileute father, Makah mother. Accepted. And the poor boy around whom she spins her toils? That's Philippe, dark skin and the softest of black hair, all contrasting greatly with his startling blue eyes. He's leaning forward talking under his breath; I'm not really sure I want to hear what he's saying in that slightly accented voice of his. Philippe Smith: Quileute father, French mother. Accepted, but only because of his looks.

And then there is me, racing past the mass of bodies socializing in the atrium. Muttering 'excuse me's and 'sorry's as I squeeze my way through, trying to get myself heard amiss the rumble of voices. Kim Roue: Half-Quileute: mother pure-blood descendant. Trust me when I say it's a good thing I take after my mother, and not my blond father.

"Excuse me!" I cry out a little louder, fighting my way around a gaggle of gossiping girls. They don't even look at me as they move away, gravitating towards their respective classes. The quieting air around me is shattered by the loud call of the morning bell. I swear hotly under my breath as I sprint down the long hallway, urging my feet to take me faster.

This part of my life is called being late for class.

Ms. Rysha, our cold-hearted biology teacher analyzes me harshly over her strict rectangular glasses. A slight frown appears on her features as she looks me over.

"Ms. Roue? Tardy again?"

I sheepishly stare down at my feet, fighting the flush of crimson that is creeping up my cheeks at the muffled and ridiculing laughter of the class.

With an off-handed tut, Ms. Rysha waves me off to my desk. I eagerly plop down in my desk, scrabbling to get out pen and paper and copy down all the notes that are already scattered across the board.

Who am I, you must be wondering. The answer is simple. I'm just Kim. At LPHS I don't count myself in any of the cliques. In fact, I'm practically invisible to people, it seems. They just don't see me. Sure, I have friends. Two, to be more precise. And I'm not a loner or a creeper or anything. I just happen to have been born with a rare talent for invisibility. One day I'll have a great conversation with someone and the next day, as I walk down the hall, smiling and waving at them, they'll merely frown, confused, and turn away. Even my teachers have a hard time remembering my name.

No, it's not Michelle, or Heather, or Kaitlyn. It's just Kim.

I tried blaming this odd phenomenon on the fact that I had previously attended Forks High School before moving to La Push, in what my mom termed the home-coming, my sophomore year. But it has been two years and I only know of two people who can viably remember my name every time they see me.

So you could say that I'm just your average sixteen year old, engulfed in the madness of High School.

The bell rings obnoxiously, jolting me. My dark eyes flicker up to the board as I madly scramble to copy down the remaining notes before the teacher resolutely erases them in one stroke of the brush.

Then, I'm off again, my messenger bag swung haphazardly over my shoulder, the bright and colorful buttons knocking against my hip.

LPHS's curriculum is great, that is, if you are not aiming to get into Princeton or Harvard. Science labs are an active joke. Then there is math with Mr. Tuoka, who has long been rumored a serious alcoholic since his American wife left him. He's half-Quileute.

I must be serious with you. All my day is the rising action, waiting for the climax. All day I sit in class, absent-mindedly scribbling down notes, staring at the clock, willing it to move faster. For my day doesn't really being until 11:24.

11:24 am. Sixth period. Art.

I decided to take art because, really, what else would you take at a Native American High School? But that's not the reason why I wait all day for that magic time.

No. The reason is much simpler.

Jared Thail.

Okay, so maybe he doesn't even know who I am, even though I sit at the same desk, right beside him, in art.

But he also happens to be the love of my life. In fact, I'm slightly…well, maybe more than slightly, obsessed with him. My notebook is littered with the product of my romantic daydreams.

Kim Roue Thail.

Mrs. Kim Thail.

Mr. and Mrs. Jared Thail.

My Jared. Mine.

As you could probably have guessed, this part of my life is called, being in love.

Or being obsessed.

And I'm always early for art.

The classroom is small, quaint. Sculptures from many mediums, ranging from soap-stone to the reddest of clays form an uneven line across the ledge of the wall-length window to the right of the room. Sunlight streams in from the windows, lightly landing on the two person desks that are strewn around the room, facing in the general direction of the blackboard. The ceiling tiles are painted, testimony of one of Mrs. Gatsby's previous classroom projects.

As predicted, I'm the first one in the class. I always am. Humming happily I make my way to my seat. Getting ready for the arrival of Jared Thail, while it may appear to the on-looker a simple process, is actually intensely complicated. I place my bag at my right, given as Jared sits to my left. Think about it; what better excuse to lean in towards him? Shaking my head slightly at my own folly, I pull out my pencils, sketchbook and carefully adjust my shirt and hair.

"Kim, stop messing up your hair. It looks fine!"

That's Angie. Her bright hazel eyes shine with mirth as she plops down on the seat in front of me. A mischievous smile comes to her lips.

"Guess what?"

I roll my eyes, but can hardly contain my ready smile, "What?"

Angie leans forward, drumming her fingers on my desk, "I bet you today is the day he notices you."

I can't help but laugh, my thin shoulders shaking slightly, "You say that everyday!"

The class is beginning to fill up, and Mrs. Gatsby is already bustling around, her obnoxious turquoise glasses askew on her stubby nose. Angie's response to my statement is merely a wink as she sets herself to the task of taking out her supplies.

"Your shirt looks very cute."

I grin at her back, the hope inside me swelling up. Perhaps she's right. Perhaps today is the day Jared, my Jared, notices me. Maybe he'll ask me what my name is. And maybe, if I am really lucky, come tomorrow he'll actually remember what it is.

The bell rings, as loud and raucous as ever.

As if on cue, they come through the door.

They means only one thing in this school, and that is them. The elite group of boys. All pure-blood direct descendants from the leaders of our tribe. All the most handsome and best-looking men ever to grace the face of this earth.

Embry Call is the first to pass the threshold of the door, his enormous frame hardly making it through. He's yawning, a bored expression settled on his features.

But it's the second boy who captures my attention.

There's a satisfied smirk on his lips, his impossibly dark eyes are dancing with laughter. He's tall, the same height as Embry, but in contrast to Embry's stockiness, he is lean though not lanky at all. As he gracefully takes his seat next to me, the sun lingers on his frame, his coppery skin shining.

And therein lies the beauty of my seat. Yes, I sit next to Jared, but what is even better is that Embry occupies the table to my right. You get the picture. Jared talks to Embry and I am in the fortunate position to observe Jared Thail all I want. I won't lie; my dearest hope is that I will find myself taking part of their conversation, but I know that will never happen. I am too shy and reserved to try something so brash. Besides, they don't even know my name.

Mrs. Gatsby doesn't talk for long; just a couple of hurried words of advice given in between her wheezing breaths. It is easy to tell that she is much more concerned for the exquisite wood carving in the back than for the dispersion of knowledge to her students. The second she takes up the knife and jogs back to the mangled piece of pine tree it happens.

I hardly had any warning; just a quick cry from Embry and the small ball knocks into the side of my face, effectively knocking me off my chair and to the ground.

This part of my life is called pain.

I sit up on the hard linoleum floor, rubbing the side of my face. The small fabric ball got me right along my jaw line, up on my cheek and beside my ear, which is still ringing from the impact. How could a boy throw a ball so hard? I wince and try to move my jaw, hoping the ball had not managed to shatter any bones.

"Are you okay?" comes a hasty and concerned voice, "We are so sorry."

It's the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. I look up, looking for Jared's eyes. It was going to be one of those intensely romantic and cliché moments of film history. The boy leaning over the injured girl, the girl looking up timidly, hesitating, their eyes meet and its love at first sight. But there was only one slight problem. Yes, Jared had gotten out of his chair, his arms hovering over me, inconclusive to whether or not I needed help. But his eyes, his beautiful eyes so insightful and soft, were focused on a laughing Embry. And the emotion in them was hardly one of any affection for me, but of slight annoyance.

"Stupid dog," he muttered under his breath.

I made a move to get up and his gaze immediately fell on me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes still flickering over to Embry. If anything, Jared looked afraid.

"I'm fine, thank you," I mumbled shyly, a blush creeping onto my cheeks. Now. Now he was going to speak to me, ask me my name!

That part of my life was called being stupid.

As soon as those four words left my mouth Jared instantly got up and marched over to Embry, his voice a murmured torrent of frustration and anger.

Making my way up into my seat, my hand still pressed against the aching cheek, I heard snatches of the rushed conversation.

"What's wrong with you…throwing the ball that hard...given away our secret…do you want everyone…to know…"

Today had not been that day.

See that girl sitting at her seat, her hand covering a red round mark on her cheek? The one so close, yet so far, from the funny and tall dark boy?

Yeah, that's me.

Kim Roue.

Not Liv, not Anna, not even Claire.

Kim.

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_So tell me. How do you like our dear Kim? And Jared? :grins: Don't be shy, drop off a review with anything you may want to tell me. I will respond! Many kisses and until next time!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	3. The Actor and the Spectator 2

**Chapter 2**

The Actor and the Spectator

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My life is a vicious cycle. Very similar to this washing machine.

Turning, turning and then turning some more.

The obnoxious creaking followed by the loud slam of the front door jolted me out of my reverie. I really hadn't realized I had been sitting here, in front of the washing machine that long.

"Kiiimmmm!"

My feet were unsteady as I stood up and frantically dove towards the sink, splotching water over my face in hopes of erasing all residues of my tears. I know. Pathetic. As soon I had come home after school I had locked myself in the laundry room, had a pitiful crying session over the injustice that Jared, strong, brave, funny Jared, did not love me. But of course, don't start thinking low of me; this does not happen everyday. Maybe once a week. The hit in the face just seemed to have been a crowning moment of glory in my life so far and I immediately had to celebrate.

By the way, that was sarcasm.

"Kim!"

As soon as I stepped into the entrance, my mother pounced on me, enveloping me in a tight, suffocating hug. Her neat black purse went flying around at the sudden motion, hitting me solidly in the face. Seriously. This is starting to get a little old.

"Oh my goodness! Kim, darling! Where did I get you?" my mother cried out, panicked as she began to inspect my face for any possible damage.

"Mother, please, get off," I made a vain attempt to push her off of me before she discovered anything. Unfortunately, my efforts were a little too late.

Her sharp eyes had picked up the red welt that decorated my right cheek and jaw line.

If there was one thing Emma Roue could not stand was for anyone to touch her only child. Before I was born she had two miscarriages, and after she was told not-so-subtly by the doctor that was the end of the line for her. Emma Roue was born with the innate need to be a mother, to nurture and to care for. And I was her only child. I vividly remember my first day of school: a boy had pushed me off the swing in his eagerness to try it for himself. My mother had taken the boy by one ear, given him the harshest lecture of his entire life and made sure that he never came near me again.

From the way my mother's eyes were flashing and her nostrils were flaring I could tell that her sweet motherly instincts were rising to the surface once more.

"Who did this to you, Kim?" my mother spit out fiercely, resting her hand gently on my cheek.

I mumbled and pushed her hand away, "I'm fine, mother."

"No, you are not! You are not fine! That is going to bruise! You could get a hemorrhage! Surgery! Oh no, they'll have to-"

I raised my hands to cut my mother off before she could start composing my epitaph, "Mom. Listen. I'm fine," I stated slowly, letting a slight smile creep onto my face, "It's a small welt; it'll be gone by tomorrow."

But my mother was not appeased, grabbing for my face once more, "How did this happen? It's enormous!"

My answer was barely coherent I spoke to fast, "Art class, some guy was throwing a ball, it kind of hit me."

"A ball? What type of ball? A bowling ball? Dear, this is serious. Maybe we should go to the doctor," my mother continued undaunted, her fingers probing my jaw for breaks.

I impatiently shrugged her off, frowning at her predictability, "Mom! Stop!"

"But-"

I quickly put up my hand tersely, "No. No buts. It's a small welt, from a small ball, and it'll be gone by tomorrow."

My mother reached out, subconsciously, still doubtful. I thought I was going to have to start taking desperate measures in order to avoid the weird looks from the nurses at the local hospital.

The door slammed open for the second time, my father's tall frame nearly falling in to avoid the sudden downpour. Ah, Washington State. The land where if it's not raining, it's pouring.

His horn-rimmed glasses were fogged, and a smile was etched on his blond features, "How are my favorite girls?"

My mother, not to be deterred in her task, pointed a long finger at the welt on my face, "Kim is seriously hurt."

My father leaned forward, his awkward thin frame combined with my mom and mine's small petite bodies somehow managing to fill up the entire hall. Silence reined as my father adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and peered at the injury in question.

"Well, Emma," my dad began solemnly, leaning back as he put an arm confidentially over my mother's shoulders, "I do believe Kim has a red spot on her skin."

I laughed, grinning uncontrollably at my father while my mother let out an indignant squawk of protest.

"Thomas! Your daughter has been gravely injured! Her jaw could be fractured! There could be internal bleeding!"

My father muted her with a swift kiss. In the small time my mother pondered over what had just happened, a small frown on her soft features, I gave my dad a quick hug. Finally, my mother let out a giant huff, and let it go.

A wry smile took over her frown as she looked up at her husband, "How was the drive home?"

My father's answer was not the usual jest on the weather. His face had a funny look to it, as if he were still wondering, confused.

"Actually, I saw something on the road. I-I think it was a wolf. Or maybe a bear," his eyes narrowed slightly, "It was huge. I might have imagined it. But really, something that big in the forest?"

A shiver traveled down my spine. But it was neither out of fear nor lack of heat. I felt odd, inside. In my mind's eye I could see the huge animal, blurry through the pounding rain dispersed by the thrashing of the windshield wipers into the black night. An enormous wolf, the size of a bear. The fur shining in a dark gleam of brown. For less than a second there were two impossibly dark eyes in the night. Then, it was as if it had never been.

My mother laughed as my father finished his sentence.

"I could have sworn it looked straight at me."

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_And so the plot thickens. Don't you just love overprotective mothers? Oh! And also a HUGE thanks to all signedreviewers and the anonymous ones too: wolf.girl, anonymous, Mori and luisiach! Thanks a bunch to all! And, for everyone's personal pleasure, I have put up some pics on my profile. I always like to have a visual to go along with my story, so there! Now, wanna guess who the dark brown wolf bear was? :smiles mischievously: _

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	4. The Actor and the Spectator 3

**Chapter 3**  
The Actor and the Spectator

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As a matter of fact, the welt was still shining on my face the day after. My mother almost had a coronary when I walked down to breakfast. My father just laughed and told me I looked very attractive. I laughed along with him, posing while my mother brought out the heavy duty ice for one final attempt to make it disappear. Like everyday, I ended up being late for the bus and having to practice the hundred meter sprint to catch up to the rickety dying vehicle.

I wasn't lying when I told my mother I didn't mind the red welt. I wasn't lying when I laughed with Angie at possible excuses for the red mark, the most colorful having something to do with a raging unleashed tiger.

But deep inside all I could think of was Jared. Jared. The fading bruise might give me that golden opportunity to open a conversation. To actually ask him his name as if I didn't know it and whisper it in my sleep. Okay, so maybe an injury isn't the best of conversation starters. What am I supposed to say: Hey there, handsome! You know that ball your pal threw at my face yesterday? Yeah, you know the one! Well, it left this nasty bruise on the side of my face. Do you want to apologize some more and perhaps grovel a bit? Oh, and, by the way, my name is Kim.

Yup. We all know how well that would go.

But I hadn't pinned after Jared for the better part of a year for nothing. If anything at all could establish a connection between us, I would take it. Even if it was welt on the side of my face.

It was with this positive attitude that I took my seat in art. Go Kim, it's your birthday; we're going to party like it's your birthday. That last part came from Angie's brilliant encouragements. She was all for the pity talk and even suggested I pretend to have a concussion to milk it for all its worth.

Needless to say, I didn't quite agree with her to that extent. I am after all Kim, just the shy girl who happens to sit beside a mortal god in art.

The bell rang.

I sat up a little straighter, very discreetly peering through the side of my eyes towards the door.

Mrs. Gatsby, most likely due to an anonymous complaint to the principal, was actually teaching class today. Her manner was frustrated, her wide blue eyes fixed on her carving at the back of the room. She obviously would have preferred to have been carving than talking about how to position an object of a painting in order to get the best lighting contrast.

The sunlight teemed through the windows and I could tell my classmates were falling, one by one, into the stupor of noon. I was wide awake, panicked. The time: 11:28 am.

Jared was late.

I could barely concentrate on the stocky woman breathing heavily at the front of the class. What if something had happened to him? Was he sick? Oh no. My mind swam with millions of horrible scenarios of what could have kept the future father of my children from coming to art.

Really, I feel embarrassed at my psychopathic obsession over Jared. It is odd, you know. What I feel for Jared is not like those small crushes where your typical high school girl simpers over a random guy. Though it might have all the appearance of being that…well, how should I say this…_lame_, I can assure you it is not. I do not have a crush on Jared. What I feel for him is so much more. Yes, coming from a girl whom he doesn't even know exists, it may seem strange and creepy. It is hard to explain. Like gravity. You can't explain gravity, but its there.

At exactly 11:30, six minutes after the class had begun, and two minutes after I had started giving serious consideration to asking Mrs. Gatsby to let me go see if Jared was okay, the door opened slowly.

He walked gracefully into the room, without a noise. No one seemed to notice he had stepped into the room. In the stupor that had fallen quite a few people had begun to whisper amongst themselves, the teacher and what was becoming her angry tirade, forgotten. In his large hand was a crumpled piece of yellow paper: a pass, which he left on the very edge of Mrs. Gatsby's untouched desk before making his way towards me.

What happened next I can recite down to the very last detail.

Jared sat down awkwardly on the blue chair that was way too small for his enormous frame. His black hair, always in the same state of beautiful disarray, fell into his eyes and he impatiently brushed it away with the back of his hand. The pencil he pulled out was worn, and the sketchbook looked untouched. He leaned back, making himself comfortable, a relaxed smile on his features. It was like everyday; he would listen, smirk and laugh, occasionally turning to Embry and whispering a funny sentence. But Embry wasn't here today.

11:32 am.

Jared frowned suddenly, his perfect brow wrinkling. It seemed as though there was something slightly off about the world, and he couldn't figure out was it was. He tapped his sneakers, barely visible under his long dark blue jeans, impatiently on the beige linoleum floor.

11:33 am.

His movement was so sudden I almost fell out of my chair with surprise. Jared Thail has turned in his chair. And from underneath his long shaggy black bangs, he is staring straight at me. His eyes. Those impossibly dark eyes. A brown so deep it is almost black. I feel a lurch in my stomach and my breath is caught in my throat. I can't breathe, but I don't want to. Jared, my Jared is looking right into my dark eyes, his own widening with surprise, or another emotion I cannot name.

Then, just as suddenly as he turned to me, he turns away. His movement is almost too fast for my eyes to follow as I blink in confusion, choking on my own breath. He has pushed his chair to the very corner of his side, as far away from me as possible, his strong arms gripping the table until his knuckles turn white under the stress.

Instantly aware that I had been staring, I quickly turn my face to stare at the desk under my small hands. My breath is coming in ragged gulps, and my head still feels light. Blood is rushing to my face as I blush royally, completely and utterly embarrassed. I clench my fists, berating myself for being so stupid – I was staring like a complete idiot!

Then, before I can take my bag and flee to the bathroom, he talks to me.

"What's you name?" he asks softly.

My head turn instantly to face him, and I realize how close he is. The outside of my skin is burning, his warmth and heat only increasing my growing temperature. My stomach contracts with dozens of butterflies. My throat is parched, and I know my eyes are once more lost in the depths of his soft and gentle expression. I cannot control the blush as it sets me ablaze.

I immediately turn back to look desperately at my desk. My answer is so quiet I am surprised he heard it at all.

"K-Kim."

He tries my name out, whispering it to the air, "Kim."

That second I decide that no one should be allowed to say my name but Jared. The way it rolls off his tongue makes me want to die right then and there.

"I'm Jared. Jared Thail."

I was going to just quickly glance at him, but I ended up getting sucked into his stare once more. My voice sounds ridiculous and hoarse, as if I had just walked through a desert, "I know."

He smiles and my heart falls as I suddenly wish I could take back my words and eat them. I desperately try to redeem myself by launching into an explanation, holding out my hands to him in an effort to make him understand.

"N-No, wait, I don't know. No. That's a lie: I k-know. But everyone knows your name. Not just m-me, me particularly. I-I know. Everyone knows. And I-I," I wince as I realize how stupid he must think me.

He chuckles, cutting me off by whispering my name again. Goodness that would never get old.

"Kim."

My mouth closes instantaneously and I return to openly staring at him, waiting to hear his beautiful voice again. But he seems content to scrutinize my face, a worried crinkle around his mouth as searches for something. Do I have something on my face? My heart is racing and I feel panic rising inside me.

"Roue," I blurt out on impulse.

He frowns and I hastily press myself to explain.

"Roue. That's my name. My last name," I finish rather lamely.

Oh god. I'm messing this up so bad. My one chance to impress the guy of my dreams and everything is crumbling to pieces under my clumsy words. I feel the urge to cry, my throat constricting.

"Kim…is that short for Kimberly?"

I smile slightly at the question, my fears subsiding for a moment, "No. It's just Kim. Not Kimberly. Just Kim."

I have yet to move, my eyes fixed on his. He is so beautiful. His eyes, his aristocratic nose, his strong jaw line, his soft-looking lips, the messiness of his hair. Jared. Jared Thail.

Jared who frowns, his eyes fighting within themselves. He moves away from me and sighs in frustration, running a hand through his black locks. Before I can ask what is wrong his eyes meet mine again.

"I have to go."

And just like that he's gone. His pencil and his sketchbook forgotten on his desk as he runs out of the class, oblivious to the sudden cry of surprise from Mrs. Gatsby.

I collapse in my chair, my muscles lacking the strength to support me. Numbness overtakes me. Jared is gone. Jared who calls me Kim. His chair is empty, thrown to the side in his quick retreat. My Jared. I would pinch myself to see if it was all a dream but for the worn pencil that has rolled over to my side of the desk, resting gently against the tattered edges of my sketchbook.

11: 42 am.

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_Ladies and Gentlemen, the imprinting has occurred. So…what do you think? The imprinting is the critical point in any, well,_ imprint_ story, so tell me what you think! Hate it? Love it? You tell me! I will respond to your comments and incorporate anything you want! Kisses!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	5. The Actor and the Spectator 4

**Chapter 4**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

"Oh Kim! Kim, Kim, Kim! I can't believe it! That's FANTASTIC!"

Angie was beside herself with excitement. She was jumping around my living room, our homework forgotten on the floor. Needless to say, her sharp eyes had seen everything in art. Brushing off his sudden departure before the end of class she focused on my blush every time he said my name.

I crossed my arms, quirking the sides of my mouth into an embarrassed smile, "Angie, please. All he did was ask my name." My eyes flickered up to hers, scared, "Did I sound as pathetic as I thought I did?"

Angie laughed and fell down to the floor beside me, wrapping me up in an impromptu hug, "Oh Kim. Silly Kim. Yes, you sounded completely lighting struck."

I moaned and clutched my stomach, "Great. Now he probably thinks I'm a stalker!"

It was raining outside, not really surprising, and all the lights in my small living room were turned on, leaving a homely feeling in the air. We had come here straight after school, Angie eager to hear The Conversation word for word. I do believe I had told the story around five times before she was satisfied. But all along, in the back of my mind, I could not help but feel a dead weight in my heart. He left. He left me.

"Kim. Look at me," Angie's voice was serious.

I dramatically raised my eyes to hers, "I'm looking."

"Guys like girls that are interested."

First off, the comment was completely out of place. I was near to having a mental breakdown and she was close to sounding very much like an editor of _Cosmo Girl_. Secondly, I do not think that's true at all. Aren't guys supposed to like the chase? Maybe we should get our facts straight. And to tell the truth, I wasn't interested in any chasing except for the short run into Jared's arms.

"Angie, why don't you go annoy Tara?" I asked wryly.

"Now why would I do that? You are _so_ much more fun to annoy."

I was about to open my mouth in protest, but she silenced me with a look before continuing.

"Besides, if I leave, you might go plant yourself in front of the washing machine again. And that is not healthy."

She had a point.

I sighed and leaned back on the lipstick red sofa, "So, I guess we better get to business then. What's our attack strategy?"

Angie grinned, "You never fail to disappoint me."

I grinned right back, pushing my spunky bangs away from my eyes, "I'm thinking: dark jeans, the blue shirt with the whales, small orange stud earrings and the red ballet flats to finish it off."

Angie nodded slowly, her eyes twinkling, "Very you. I concur. Now, tell me how you are going to walk into class."

I laughed and leaned forward, looking up at her from under my long dark eyelashes, "Well, to begin, I will make it a point to be at least three minutes late to class. I'll walk through the door and brush by the back of his chair, not too close, but close enough for him to realize I'm there. My bag will go right on my desk, and I will recline and stretch lightly, not obnoxiously so. After waiting a few moments, I'll turn look through my bag from my sketchbook, unconsciously letting Jared's pencil roll out and spin right into his hand. And then the games begin."

Angie jumped up, roaring with laughter, "Oh yeah, Kim! You show Jared Thail exactly who he's messing with."

I heard the front door slam open with a sharp crack.

Thunder rumbled outside just as my mother fell in through the door, screaming bloody murder.

In less than a second I was up on my feet and tripping over my feet in my rush to get to her. The short distance from the sofa to the door had never seemed so long. She was still on the floor when I got to her, Angie right behind me. My mother's face was the palest white I had ever seen, her dark eyes wide and alight with sheer terror. She was trying to say something, her mouth forming words that came out as small croaks. One of her flailing arms attached itself to me with an iron grip, successfully cutting off all the circulation in my arm. The other was still straight in the air, pointing ominously at the swinging front door.

I was surprised when my voice came out calm, "Angie, could you please go get a glass of water?"

She didn't need to be told twice as she left and then quickly reappeared with a large clear plastic cup.

I forced the water into my mother's small hands and watched her as she drank the entire thing in one frantic gulp.

"O-Outside…huge…" she squeaked when she finally spoke.

I followed the path of her finger into the storm brewing above our heads, my voice was a whisper, "What mom, what was it?"

Angie had to lean forward to hear my mother's next words, "Two enormous wolves…bears…yes, bears, they had to be bears. They were right outside. Right outside our house. Huge, gigantic. Both with the darkest fur…are there black bears in Washington? One was definitely black. Massive. Too big to ever make it through the door but…Kim, what are you doing?"

I didn't really know what I was doing. Before I knew it my feet, with slow calculated steps, had taken me outside. Rain splattered onto me, soaking through my clothes in seconds, running down my nose almost as if the large and heavy rain drops were tears. I couldn't really see anything amiss the pounding rain and the dark dreary sky of twilight. My feet carried me off of my steps and in the direction of the looming dark woods. I had forgotten I was barefoot, but that really didn't matter. I didn't really know what mattered, only that a force greater than any other was pulling me towards the woods.

I saw a flash of pure white, so quick and bright amongst the dark trees that for a second I thought it had been my imagination.

A second flash. A ghost in the dark.

My feet came to a halt as my mind struggled to process the dark and blurred scene before me. The only noise in the air was the rush of the downpour, muting all else around. My clothes had soaked through my skin and I felt heavy as I shook my drenched hair away from my eyes. The grass was squishy with mud beneath my feet. And through it all I managed to catch the most alluring scent.

It was sweet, almost overly so. It hung like a whiff of jasmine in the air around me, unpurified by the rain. There was another scent too, this one more earthly. It was the smell of the forest, a combined mix of pine and ocean. The scent of our tribe.

I don't remember how long I stood under the rain like that. It might have been hours, or it might have been only a moment. The utter silence of the storm surrounding me.

There was a flash of lights as my mother ran out of my house, Angie on her heels. They were screaming something; I couldn't really hear them. It was raining, and something was moving in the forest.

As my mother shoved a raincoat on me, Angie hopping from one foot to the other beside her, a deafening howl rose through the night.

I froze.

It was the most beautiful anguished cry, a cry that reverberated through me. I exhaled loudly, wishing I could call back.

The night was silent again, washed away by the storm.

* * *

_More thickening of the plot. Yup. On another business note: a lot of people have been expressing interest in Jared's point of view, so in giving out an insert…a pretty substantial four page insert, all in Jared's point of view. If you're interested, tell me in your review and I'll sent it in the review reply. For those anonymous reviewers, just give me some sort of email address. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed and please review! That's what keeps me going!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	6. The Actor and the Spectator 5

**Chapter 5**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

My mother filed a complaint the next morning, yelling something about how it was an outrage that the citizens were so unprotected over the phone.

I kind of felt bad for the poor soul who happened to have the morning shift at the rez office. But then I remembered that sickly sweet smell that hung in the air last night and I decided that whoever they were, they deserved it.

"I told you. I told you!" my father was triumphantly waving his fork in the air to anyone who would listen, "You laughed when I told you about the bears, you didn't believe me. Ha. They are real! Real!"

My mother furiously threw the phone away from her, completely ignoring my father as she violently cracked open three eggs into the frying pan.

"I cannot _believe_ that such dangerous animals would be allowed to wander unchecked through the reservation," she hissed heatedly, throwing the milk on the table.

My father was still jabbering, undaunted, "- Too rainy, you said. My vision is fine, I saw the bear as clear as day! That's what you get for not believing me. If I say I saw a bear, then I saw a bear!"

I drank my orange juice nervously, already predicting where this rant was going.

My mother, butter knife in hand, walked around the small table enraged, throwing scrambled eggs onto the three plates, "Next thing you know, I'm going to be finding rattlesnakes in the laundry!"

I stared at her as she forcibly took her seat, huffing crossly. My father was now trying to explain how bears, who aren't exactly common to this region, could have migrated from Alaska.

Mom attacked the toast on her plate, her narrowed eyes stopping on my father's face, silencing him instantaneously.

"Thomas," she began taking a large suffered breath, "I want you to go talk to that Sam Uley before you go to work. I've checked the tax reports and would you know; he gets more than one-fourth of the entire return under the excuse of security. Security! Ha! Well, you can go and tell him what I'm going to do with that money if I _ever_ see those bears again."

I chocked on my toast. Wrong move.

"And, you, Kim! You deliberately disobeyed me last night! _What_ on earth did you think you were doing, walking out like that? Not only did you put yourself in danger, but you put me and your friend in danger too! There were bears outside! And you could have gotten hypothermia or pneumonia standing out in the rain!"

I knew the conversation would inevitably fall back onto my reckless behavior last night. No matter how many times I explained that I couldn't control my feet my mother still pressed on. Oh, and when I told her it was like gravity was pulling me in one direction, she laughed out loud.

My father cleared his throat loudly, disrupting the tangential direction of my mother's angry rant, "Emma? Please, let us be reasonable-"

I closed my eyes as I heard the clinging of glass as my mother shot out of her seat, shoving a forceful finger in my father's calm face, "_Reasonable!_ There were two _BEARS _in my front porch!"

"Yes, Emma, I believe both Kim and I are well aware of that fact," I buried my face in my scrambled eggs when he mentioned my name, in a vain attempt to try and stop my mother's rage from turning to me again, "However, I have to be off and I'm afraid I don't have time to drop Sam Uley any hate mail."

My mother gaped at my father as he rose up, kissed her solidly on the forehead, gave me a brief hug and left through the door with his briefcase. In the silence that followed, I tried to make myself as small as possible. In my sincere opinion, two bears on the front porch were much safer than my mother when enraged. To think this Friday morning had started like any other morning.

Apparently I'm not exactly gifted at making myself very small. Without losing any steam, my mother stomped her foot angrily on the ground, let out a frustrated scream and rounded on me.

"Kim, go tell Mr. Uley exactly what I think of the degree of security in the reservation," she ordered in a tight seething voice.

I rose out my chair, "Mom! That's not fair! I have to go to school!" I cried out in indignation.

But my mother was already disappearing up the stairs, "It's only down the street!"

* * *

_Hello everyone! First things first: I would like to ask that anyone who has received the Jared P.O.V let me know, I was having technical difficulties and I want to know if its affecting everyone or just me. Secondly: this is an extremely short chapter. I know. BUT- please tell me what you think, and depending on how many nice reviews I get (yes, I know I am evil), I will update later today. I know there are 23 people that have this on their alert list. And I'm going to weed you out. :) Don't be shy! I don't bite…usually ;) I reply to all reviews!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	7. The Actor and the Spectator 6

**Chapter 6**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

Only down the street. Right. Technically, all of La Push was one giant street. And the Uley household happened to be a good mile down this one long street. To top it off, I had exactly thirty minutes to get to school.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself as another gust of northern winds dropped my body temperature another ten degrees. My hair flew around my face, obscuring my view of the neat houses along the sidewalk. Ironic how my mother, always so concerned for my health, had failed to notice that in the homely weather of WA, my feet, in my dainty red ballet flats, were probably going to get frostbite and fall off at any moment.

127 Spirit Dr.

As I struggled to walk briskly against a roaring wind, my thoughts wandered irrevocably to Jared Thail. I hadn't really gotten much of a chance to personally think over 'The Conversation' with all the events of last night. There was something indescribable about those nine minutes in art. Had it really been only nine minutes? The intensity of his dark, dark brown eyes when they had locked with mine. His voice quietly carving out my name. Oh goodness. The way he said my name made me weak at the knees. Why had he talked to me? After all this time, why yesterday?

What would it feel like to kiss him? I almost fainted in the middle of the sidewalk at the very though of his perfect soft lips on mine. My stomach erupted in butterflies and my skin burned.

155 Spirit Dr.

I remembered our entire conversation as if I had a transcript of it before my eyes. In retrospect, we hadn't really said much. He asked me my name, told me his, I gave him my last name and assured him my first name was Kim. What is in a name? Personally I think our time would have been better spent with love declarations. But for now, staring into his eyes for hours seemed a great substitute.

167 Spirit Dr.

Panic took over my entire body as a thought wormed its way up the front. What if he didn't remember my name? What if he forgot about me? I was invisible. People forgot my name in minutes, let alone days. Would he look at me confused when I start to talk to him today in class? Could he remember who I was?

173 Spirit Dr.

I forced my panic to subside. He couldn't possibly forget me. He was Jared. Amazing, perfect, strong, funny, handsome Jared. He wouldn't forget.

189 Spirit Dr.

What was the number of Sam Uley's house again?

191 Spirit Dr.

I sprinted to the door and eagerly ran the bell twice for good measure. I shifted on my feet as I waited. Emily Young answered.

If you ever met Emily Young, she would not be easily dismissed from your mind. One side of her face was perfection, her features smooth and glowing with startling beauty. The other side was not. Scars ran down her copper cheek, pulling at her skin and distorting the shape of her eyes. It was shocking at first, almost frightening. But there was an inner beauty to Emily which overshadowed both her beauty and her hideousness.

"Hello! What can I do for you?" she asked gently, her kind smile contagious.

And that is when I realized how insensitive my complaint was going to sound to the fiancé of the woman mauled by bears.

I tried to smile back, "Is Sam Uley home? I just wanted to let him know about some concerns I have about security."

I half expected Emily to look confused at my odd request. You don't find many sixteen year old girls voicing security concerns at the bright hour of six forty in the morning. But she merely smiled and waved for me to follow her in.

"Please, come in, I wouldn't want to you catch a cold!" she said brightly, "I'll be right back with Sam."

Sam Uley was enormous. His impossibly tall and muscled frame filled in the entire area around him, making me feel very much like the smallest of mice. Yet, despite his size, he moved with a gracefulness reminiscent of a sure-footed dancer. He reminded me of Jared.

When he spotted me by the door his entire body froze in shock.

"Kim," his voice was a deep surprised rumble.

Whatever I had been expecting, Sam Uley knowing my name was not among them. Confusion and astonishment must have been apparent in my face, along with a little fear, because the pure-blooded Quileute held out his hand for me to shake with a reverberating laugh.

"Sorry if I startled you; I just recognized you from a picture your mother was showing my fiancé a few days ago," he said in manner of explanation, shooting a look over his shoulder.

Relieved that I wasn't dealing with a psychopath, I shook his hand, "I was just surprised."

A wide smile broke across his face as he rubbed his giant hands together, "Now, how can I help you? Emily said you had a concern about security?" he trailed off at the end.

I frowned and looked down at my thawing feet, nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. How was I going to say this and not sound one: completely stupid, or two: as if I were making some sort of sick joke on the condition of his fiancé?

"Mr. Uley, I just wanted to bring to your attention that yesterday night, my mother and I saw two large animals, bears most likely, very near to our house," I dictated with a polite and differential tone.

"Bears?" the tall man asked, a funny sort of look on his face as he cast another glance over his shoulder.

I forgot my polite manner as my memories of the night came flooding back to me, "Well, they must be bears, right? I mean, they sort of looked like wolves, but I'm pretty sure wolves cannot get that big."

Sam Uley looked like he was chocking on something and when he spoke his expression was apprehensive, "Thank you for coming to me with that information, I'll post a warning and make sure to see it never happens again."

A grin stretched across my face as I realized I was home free. Now I just needed to break the world marathon record and make it to school on time. Quickly gathering my coat and scarf around me, I paused to shake Sam's hand in thanks.

"Thank you, I am-"

What I was no one got to know, because that second Jared Thail, in all his almost inhuman glory, suddenly appeared beside Sam, walking out of what looked to be the kitchen.

* * *

_**Important announcement**__: there seems to be a problem with the website; Talulah-Bear and mayalucille both confirmed that they haven't been getting emails from fanfiction. So. It seems no one has gotten Jared's point of view yet, nor any of my review replies. Therefore, I am going to wait until the website starts working again and then I will make sure to send everything out again! Thanks for your patience and your reviews! _

_Cookies and werewolf hugs for all of you that are brave enough to submit a quick review and tell me what you think! :winks:_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	8. The Actor and the Spectator 7

**Chapter 7**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

I was struck completely dumb and the sight of him. In fact, I'm pretty sure I forgot to breathe. There was a jolt at my navel as I felt myself wanting to do nothing more than run and bury myself in his arms. Or kiss him senseless, I wasn't picky.

When he saw me, his face melted into a huge grin, his deep eyes sparkling. Faster than my eyes could keep track, he was at my side, almost jumping up and down with excitement.

"Kim!"

He remembered my name.

"What are you doing here?" his comforting baritone asked me.

I just stared at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. Fortunately for me and my fragile reputation, Sam interceded on my behalf.

"She was just letting me know that she saw _two large animals_ by her house yesterday. Isn't that interesting, Jared?" Uley said slowly and with emphasis.

I was too busy trying to get my breath back and stop staring at Jared like a complete stalker to notice the quick look Sam gave Jared. Jared did not miss a thing and straightened to his full height, which made me feel like a tiny little child next to two giants. Jared cast me a worried look, filled with a slight fear.

"Oh," my Jared commented intelligently, a nervous tinge coming out in his voice.

I spoke up for the first time, my heart shredding itself to pieces at my words, "I-I have to go. To school."

Both men turned to look at me from the silent conversation they had been having with their eyes.

I rushed to explain myself, blushing royally, "I-It is getting late. School starts soon and I have to, to walk. It's far."

Oh my. I sounded like an illiterate three year old. I was going to just bolt for the door when Jared's animated laugh burst the silence.

"Kim, it's not far. You just need to know the short cuts," he said confidentially, gazing down at me, "Come on, I'm taking you to school."

My eyes widened until I thought they would just fall out of my sockets, "You?"

Jared blinked and smiled gently, "I have to go to school too, don't I?"

I blushed furiously at that obvious statement. I should have known that. Jared bid Sam a raucous goodbye and then did something that me completely by surprise.

He excitedly grasped my petite hand in his large one, leading me out behind him.

He was warm. More than warm: he seemed to produce heat, the warmth coming off of him in calming waves. And his hand felt so right around mine, as if it was meant to be there. The wind had picked up outside and it tossed my dark hair into my eyes and mouth.

A wide uncontrollable smile took hold of my face and I laughed out loud.

Jared turned to look at me, and for a second I could have sworn to see something in his eyes that I could not perfectly describe. His own smile was a mirror of mine.

"What's so funny?" he asked, perplexed.

I squeezed my hand around his, and raised my arms in the air, "All this!"

He raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

My nervousness and giggles calmed down as the wind picked up, lashing me. I turned my bright eyes to his, smiling sheepishly.

"So, how do you know Sam Uley?" I asked casually, glancing down at my kicking feet.

For a casual question, Jared seemed very tense as he answered vaguely, "Oh, well, he's…he's a protector of the tribe and I work with him."

He finished his sentence hastily and immediately turned the spotlight onto me, "How do _you_ know Sam Uley?"

"I don't," I answered truthfully, "But my mother basically forced me to go and complain to him about the huge bears that we saw around my house."

"Oh," Jared's answer was a bit high pitched.

The question came out on its own. Talking to Jared was so natural, like second nature that I didn't think twice about how odd it sounded.

I frowned as I looked up at him, "Were you outside last night? Because there was this odd smell in the air: a very sweet smell, sort of like freshly bloomed jasmine."

Jared froze in his steps, stopping me with him. In one instant gesture he placed both of his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look into his deep eyes. There was a flash of fear, maybe pain in them, and the seriousness of his steady gaze frightened me.

"Kim, I want you to promise me not to go out in the night like you did yesterday," he pronounced levelly.

I was at loss of words, distracted by the protection and warmth of his large hands over my small shoulders, "I-I…"

"Just promise me Kim, please."

My mind had yet to process any of his words, but my answer was immediate, second nature, "I promise."

The gravity that had hung in the air right away dissolved to be replaced by the light and gentle atmosphere of before.

Jared amused baritone soothed all of my uneasiness away, "I take it you don't walk to school a lot."

"I don't see the need in walking five miles in the cold and rain when we have a perfectly good transportation system," I shot right back, beaming.

The corner of his mouth curved into a loopy grin, "Perfectly good transportation system? I'll have you know that most of those buses are neither insured nor operated by licensed individuals."

"Oh, trust me, I know. But it still beats walking to school in the cold," as if to prove my point I shivered inside my black coat.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have thought that I would have the desire to be cold. But if it meant for Jared to wrap his arm around my slight shoulders and pull me close inside his chest, like he did right now, I would gladly contract pneumonia.

"Cold?" he asked gently, his hand running soothing circles on my arm to create friction.

I hummed my contented response, "Not anymore. Thank you."

Jared smirked, "Your welcome, but this personal heater comes with a price. Let's play twenty questions."

I looked at him surprised and then just snorted, "Twenty questions? Why?"

"I want to know more about you, Kim," he whispered near my ear.

He could have told me he was going to kill me and if he whispered near my ear in that husky voice of his I would gladly agree. His mood was full swing as he started asking questions.

"Brothers or sisters?"

"None."

"Any sports?"

"I did track three years before I quit."

"What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Dark chocolate."

"Do you like flowers?"

"My favorite is the lily."

"How do you feel about rollercoasters?"

"Have never been on one."

This answer caught him off guard and he gave me a look, "Really?"

"Yes, and that counts as a question. You have fifteen left."

"Jeez, pushy," he grinned, "Let's see…Any pets?"

"A fish."

"Have you ever done any cliff diving?"

"No, but I've always wanted to try."

"Do you like red sauce on your spaghetti?"

"Yes."

"Do you prefer mint or spearmint gum?"

"Jared, these are really-"

He cut me off, stopping in his tracks as his eyes met mine, burning with intensity, "Say it again."

I frowned, perplexed from the circle of his arms, "What? The spearmint or-"

"No," he waved that away impatiently, whispering the next words, "My name. Say it."

My frown vanished and it was good his grip on me was strong because I felt my knees weaken under his intense gaze.

"Jared," I barely managed to murmur.

His hug was bone crushing in its force, his voice drifting to me, "That's the first time you said my name."

I couldn't help an insane laugh come out from me. Jared pulled me back, a confused, but amused air, on his features.

My explanation came out in short gasps, "That is _not_ the first time I have said your name."

Interest leapt into his eyes, his lips curving upwards as he leaned in towards me, "Oh, really? Would you care to share?"

I gulped as I realized what I had let slip. Shoot. Just when things were going fine, I have to go and pull the creeper card. Damn. I racked my brain for any sort of witty retort I could use to defend myself. Think, Kim. Think!

The sounds of the world came rushing towards me, the buzzing combined sound of dozens of voices talking all at once. It turns out I didn't need to think, because I didn't even need to answer. We had arrived at our destination; LPHS was just around the bend. Realizing my advantage I let what I hoped was a mildly devious smile spread slowly across my lips. I felt myself being cast into the role of an actress, a character rather than the real me.

"I would love to share Jared," I started, whispering softly, "But you'll just have to wait until art."

I didn't linger to hear his frustrated sigh as I ran, laughing, my dark hair flying with the wind, to the school.

* * *

_And so the theme of the piece comes into play. I won't bore you today with my blabbing, so – review, because that makes me happy and a happy author updates daily. :) Lots of kisses and until next time!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	9. The Actor and the Spectator 8

**Chapter 8**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

He did not come to art.

All forty-some minutes I sat, teeming with excitement, waiting for Jared to casually come in through the door, that grin which was so characteristic of him glued on his features.

However, thirty minutes into another slumber inducing art period, I slowly became aware that Jared was not going to make an appearance. As a matter of fact, Embry did not make an appearance either; that was two days he had been absent. Weird, he hadn't seemed sick at all on Thursday, in fact, Embry Call had been well enough to throw a 120 mph pitch right at my face. It had really unnerved me that neither of the two almost identical boys were in art. But most of all that Jared, my Jared, had not sat beside me.

I honestly cannot remember being more upset. My head was on overdrive, trying to sort through all my mistakes and faux pas I had committed during our conversation this morning. Had I said anything to offend him, to not make him was to see me again? Had be forgotten me? I felt ill.

A rather large girl blocked my path through the crowded hallways, forcing me to squeeze past her in a tight fit. I tried not to fall over and land on top of the toothpick to my right. I was a spectator once more, demoted from the main role I had played with Jared this morning. Involuntarily, as I meekly attempted to weave through the many people in the halls, my thoughts wandered to him. To Jared. A sign escaped me as I pictured him in my mind, his goofy grin, messy coal black hair and my favorite feature of him: his deep eyes. Jared. Funny, brave Jared. My Jared.

I was so lost in my daydream that I forgot the fact that I was invisible to the population of LPHS all the time. And even more so when I was daydreaming about a certain someone.

My books flew out of my hands as I crashed full into the side of Paul Walker. It was a classic high school scene. The shy, awkward girl who nobody seems to know crashes into one the most popular boys of the school in the middle of the hall. Naturally, students immediately moved to form a ring around me, though most of them did not stay to watch but merely went on their way, already predicting the way it would end.

Paul Walker was quick. He whirled around, his shoulders hunched and his fierce eyes flaming as his infamous quick temper burst over the top. He was with the other boys, the group of elite boys to which Jared belongs to.

I was already horrified and scared enough to know that I had provoked Paul Walker. But the situation only got worse when I realized that Jared, my Jared, was lounging against the lockers beside another tall and dark boy by Paul.

Oh no.

Not only was I going to be laughing stock of the entire school when Paul was done with me, but Jared was going to see it all. I had never felt so humiliated in my entire life. In one broken motion, I fell to my knees and desperately gathered my books around me.

I bit my lip, pleading meekly, "I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to bump into you. I'm really sorry."

Paul drew up to his full height, drawing in a large shaky breath, and I prepared for the verbal onslaught that was about to occur.

"You stupid, silly little girl," he spit out hotly, "Is it really that hard to watch were you are going? Is it?"

I racked through my brain to find anything to say that would not sound as pitiful as the pleading pathetic excuses I was going to offer. But I didn't have to.

Jared was suddenly by my side, picking up my books and gently placing them in my arms as he helped me to my feet. I refused to look at him, knowing that he would see the tears in my eyes, not wanting really look like a stupid, silly little girl.

"Apologize for being in her way, Paul," Jared whispered dangerously, his eyes livid with fire as he stood defensively in front of me.

I had never seen this part of Jared before. He was usually carefree, laughing. This Jared wasn't laughing. He had drawn to his full height, his fists tightly clenched and his entire body seemed to be shaking with rage. Paul was his mirror image, and he was not about to be easily intimidated.

"_What_? Apologize? You have better be hallucinating if you think I'm going to apologize to _her_," Paul laughed bitterly, his grey eyes storms.

Jared growled, a sound deep in his throat that was not human at all. I half expected him to leap at Paul and rip his to shreds…or at least attempt to; Paul did look like he could hold his own. Fortunately, the third boy that had been with them moved quickly to position himself between the two growling dark boys.

"Whoa. Easy there. Calm down, both of you," he said in a soothing but authoritative voice.

I didn't believe that they would listen to him, but the tension was cut and Paul backed off.

"Don't abuse your authority on me, Jacob," Paul seethed, clenching and unclenching his fists, his eyes never leaving Jared's.

The third boy, Jacob, grinned hugely, his voice a silly simper, "Oh, but Paul, its so much fun!"

The look Paul gave Jacob would have withered any plant. I would have burst into the tears I was so close to. With one final glare in Jared's direction, Paul stalked off, his frame still shaking with his boiling temper. Along the way he kicked one of my books that was still strewn across the hall, sending it crashing into a locker, the clang echoing in the fast growing noise. The boy named Jacob sighed and ran after the angry teenager, apologizing to various people Paul had pushed and shoved, along the way.

I was still staring at the pile of trashed paper that had once been my biology textbook. Dropping to the ground, I crawled on my knees to retrieve the destroyed clump of papers, clutching it against my chest as I stood up slowly.

"Are you okay?" Jared rushed to my side, his eyes sweeping over me in an uncharacteristic protective way, "Ignore Paul, he's a jerk for saying that to you."

Yes, Paul was a jerk. But I could live with humiliation. What I could not live with was the fact that Jared had been a first hand witness to that humiliation.

"I'll kill him," Jared suddenly intoned darkly, his eyes flashing dangerously.

I turned my downcast eyes to him, taken by surprise at his murderous declaration. And then I saw were his eyes were. The welt. The welt courtesy of Embry Call and his homerun pitch two days ago in art. My shy demeanor instantly returned.

I covered the bruise subconsciously with my hand, "No, that's old. Paul didn't touch me."

His warm hand peeled mine away, trembling as it carefully caressed the bruise. The warmth felt wonderful on my skin and I was certain my eyes closed as I enjoyed the sensation.

"Who did this to you, Kim?" Jared asked in a dark controlled voice that frightened me.

I murmured my answer, afraid of his response, "Don't you remember Wednesday in art? Embry Call was throwing a ball and it accidentally hit me. It was no big deal, I'm fine. Really."

Jared's expression crumpled and he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to throw himself off Mt. Everest. His answer was an anguished moan, "I was there. I was there and I didn't stop it."

I couldn't help the slight smile that sneaked onto my features, "Jared, there was nothing you could have done to stop it. It was an accident. Things like that happen every once in a while."

"Things like that won't happen ever again," Jared vowed vehemently, "I promise."

A guy walking by in the hallway interrupted, pushing my books out of my hands as he threw his voice out before running back into the crowd.

"Walker sure showed you!" the voice laughed meanly; "You can't even stand up for yourself!"

My heart fell all the way down to my feet. I must have been such a pathetic sight. So pathetic that Jared took pity on me, the shy awkward girl. Tears stung my eyes and this time I couldn't help as they tore down my cheeks, stinging with shame.

"Kim?" it was Jared.

Jared. I could have handled Paul's outburst if he had not been there to see it all. The last thing I ever wanted was to be demoted in Jared's eyes. I was so confused. The magnitude of what I felt for Jared frightened me, unnerved me. How could such a feeling even exist? I tried to stem the flow of tears, shutting my eyes tightly.

"I'm fine," I answered in a choked sob as I pushed him away from me.

He may have called to me, but I could not tell you if that was true or not. All I know is that my feet flew down the hall, my head bowed in an effort to hide my tears and my broken mangled book clutched to my chest.

* * *

_That was tragic. But I couldn't help myself! On the bright side – we broke the 100 review line today! I am beyond ecstatic! The reviews are what keep me going, so keep them coming! I might let Jared and Kim get together if we get enough reviews... ;) _

_Lots of kisses and werewolf hugs for everyone!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	10. The Actor and the Spectator 9

**Chapter 9**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

Angie muttered a few obscenities under her breath as she pushed my hair away from my tearstained face. Her usual devilish countenance was replaced by a calm and firm air that mismatched with her bright orange top and blue skirt.

She sighed quietly, shaking her head, "Dear me, Kim, whatever are we going to do with you?"

I sniffed and made another attempt to erase any remaining tears with the back of my hand. "Kill me and bury me," I proposed bitterly.

She gave a small sour laugh at that, looking up from her place at the foot of my chair. We were once again at my house, though this time the purpose seemed to be, in the eyes of Angie McDouglas: therapy. Not to say that she hadn't be furious and more than a little concerned when she had heard the talk about my confrontation with the quick-tempered Paul Walker. So instead of going to the movies as we had planed, we had collapsed in my small kitchen, Angie naturally taking on the role of the elder sister.

"That's not going to do, now, isn't it?" she said forcing her frown into an upbeat smile.

I sniffed again, "Jared thinks I'm pathetic."

"Stop it," she ordered sternly, slapping me gently on the knee, "That won't do at all."

Angie rose quickly and worked her way around the cupboards, opening and closing at random, "What you need is…now where do you hide it... Aha!"

Triumphantly, she dangled the chocolate powder before my eyes, "A nice steaming mug of hot chocolate."

I cracked a tiny smile, "That wouldn't be too bad."

Angie rolled her eyes and chuckled, "Nope, not bad at all. Now, go sit on the couch and put on Oprah. You and I are going to cry our hearts out for a good reason, not just because Paul Walker has an anger-management issue."

That's how my mother found us, curled up on the red sofa, under at least twenty blankets, Angie sobbing freely as Oprah squeezed the little girl with the terminal disease in a huge hug.

"I thought you two were going out tonight?" my mother asked skeptically, craning her neck around the doorway to spy on the TV.

We both made unintelligible noises, mine a cross between a hiccup and gurgle as I choked slightly on my third cup of hot chocolate.

"Right. I'll leave you to it then," my mother scoffed, moving into the kitchen, the clash of pots and pans as she began to take them out causing her to raise her voice, "Angie, are you going to stay for dinner?"

"If that's okay with you, Mrs. Roue," Angie managed to make out in between her watery snivels.

"Not a problem at all, darling," my mother chirped as she came out of the kitchen, tying her apron around her waist, "Did you talk to Sam Uley this morning, Kim?"

I tore my eyes away from the television, where the small girl was humbly thanking Oprah for making her short life so much better in a manner reminiscent of Oliver Twist, "He said that he's going to deal with the problem and thanks you for bring it up. Oh, and mom, please stop showing everyone pictures of me. It's embarrassing."

My mother frowned slightly, "Pictures of you?"

My eyes were back on the television, "Sam Uley recognized me from a picture you showed Emily Young."

Shaking her head, my mother made an indifferent noise as she moved back into the kitchen, "I never showed Emily any pictures of you when Sam Uley was around…"

Angie let out a wail, as the small girl waved herself off stage feebly, "Wendy, poor little Wendy!"

I gulped down another burning swallow of delicious hot chocolate, happily wiggling my toes inside the warm cocoon of blankets. The door bell rang, barely making itself heard above the great interlude music orchestrated by Oprah. My mother, however, had no trouble letting her annoyance be heard, muttering something about privacy and the burning of salesmen, as she made her way to open the door.

"Kim, can you pass me the ice cream?" Angie whined, her hand grasping eagerly.

"First let's hear you say the magic words!" I sang merrily, grabbing the tub and holding it over my head.

Angie let out a complaining cry, reaching out, "Ki-im! Please!"

"KIM!"

I leaned my head back on the sofa and looked up at the ceiling as I answered my mother, "WHAT?"

Angie, taking advantage of my distraction, snatched the tub from my hands and contentedly plunged a spoon into the ice cream. My mother strode into the living room, crossing her arms over her chest as she suspiciously gazed down at me, her eyes slightly narrowed.

My frown showed my confusion, "What?"

"There is a boy at the door asking for you," my mother spoke up, her foot tapping against the floor, "Why would that be?"

I was even more confused, "A boy? Who?"

My mother was still scrutinizing me, "He says his name is Jared Thail."

I froze. Angie stopped moving, her spoon half way to her mouth. My mother missed nothing, a victorious smile appearing on her face.

"Aha! So you do know him!" her voice took on a sharp questioning tone, "Why is he here?"

I'm pretty sure my face displayed my bewilderment as I searched for any reason as to why Jared Thail would be at my house, Friday night. Angie, having regained the ability of motion, had scrambled off the couch and peeked her face through the window curtains. She twirled around, her face ecstatic as she rushed back to me, basically landing on top of me as she took me by the shoulders.

"It's him!" she said in an excited whisper, "It's him, right outside! Jared Thail! Oh my goodness, Kim!"

This uncontained eagerness from Angie only served to arouse my mother's suspicion further, "Is he your boyfriend? Are you dating?"

I blushed bright red at my mother's suggestion, trying to hide the way my breath caught when she said those words, "Mom! Stop! He's not my boyfriend!"

Angie gave a cheshire cat grin at that, "But you want him to be, don't you Kim?"

"You like this boy, Jared or whatever his name is?" my mother interrogated, as quick as a cobra.

I felt myself digging deeper into the couch, my voice sounding very small, "Yes."

There was a silence as my mother absorbed those words, her facial expression changing between uneasiness, curiosity, protectiveness, and hesitation. It was Angie who broke the tension by forcing me to my feet, dusting me off for no apparent reason.

"Then what are you waiting for! Don't make him wait! Go out there and see what he has to say!" she cried out, the television forgotten behind her.

My mother followed on my heels, a small frown wrinkling her brow, as I walked the short distance from my living room to the front door in a daze.

Sure enough, there he was, standing in the doorway that looked way too small in comparison with his large frame. He had most adorable sheepish smile, his arms crossed behind his back.

"Kim!" he beamed.

My voice came out breathy, "Hi."

The reason for his awkward smile became apparent when he produced a small white lily from behind his back, "I-I saw this on my way here and I couldn't help how much it reminded me of you. For you."

My heart either flew off into deep space or merely passed out inside my chest. I'm quite certain my smile was about to break my face as I reached out to take the flower, caressing its soft petals gently.

"It's beautiful," I whispered.

His eyes were not on the lily when he answered, "I know."

* * *

_Oh yes. I am evil. ;) But I think I might find it in me to throw you a line. Send in your comments by clicking the periwinkle blue button below, lovelies! _

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	11. The Actor and the Spectator 10

**Chapter 10**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

The moment was the epitome of classic Hollywood. The roguishly handsome boy half-way up the front door steps, his hand reaching, a captivated expression on his features. The girl, a small smile mingled with a touch of confusion as she leans forward, almost falling down the few steps that separate them. Their eyes hold each other captive, searching feverishly for something.

The boy and girl. Me and Jared. Jared and I.

There was only one possible progression for such a poignant scene. The girl tips forward ever so slightly, falling down beautifully. The boy easily catches her in his strong arms and folds her into her chest as he feverishly covers her awaiting lips in a passionate kiss.

That is how is should have turned out.

But, then again, I guess the girl's mother never happens to be right behind her, keenly surveying the situation.

"I'm Emma Roue, Kim's mother," my mom blurted out, sticking out her hand so as to cut me away from the boy standing before me.

I almost cried out in frustration at the interruption and I tried to fight down the urge to leap at my mother and take her out of the picture.

Luckily, Jared didn't miss a beat, his smile warm, "Great to meet you, Mrs. Roue. I'm Jared Thail, as I said before, a friend of Kim's."

My smile probably gave away the fact that inside I was doing jumping jacks in glee at Jared's word choice. Friend? I could live with that. I went from unknown classmate on Wednesday to friend two days later. Not bad.

My mother took two steps forward, moving to stand before me. "So, Jamie," she started, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Jared," he corrected anxiously, his expression suddenly nervous.

"Jared. How old are you?"

"16. The same age as Kim," he added as if he were trying to justify some sort of unasked question.

My mother continued, not giving anything away, "Where do you live?"

He shifted on his feet, darting glances at my face, "Just down the road, 134 Spirit Dr."

I almost did a double take as I realized I had walked past his house this morning. Jared's house. But it was my mother's next question that made me cry out in embarrassment.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asked sharply, her eyes narrowing, "Do you respect women?"

"MOM! Stop!" I cried out, pushing her away desperately with my hands, "Don't you have something else to do? Other people to annoy?"

My mother gave me a scandalized look as I managed to budge her into the entrance hall, but I refused to meet her eyes as I resolutely shut the door behind her. Frankly, I rather stand outside in the cold than have her watching me and Jared like a bloodhound on a scent. Another one of her questions and I don't think anything I could say would stop Jared from running away and never talking to me again.

I smiled sheepishly at him from under my long eyelashes, "Sorry about that, she can get carried away sometimes."

Jared ran his hands through his hair as he stepped closer to me, "No, I'm the one who is sorry, I shouldn't have come and bothered you without a warning," a pained expression appeared on his face, "If you want me to leave, I will."

"No! No!" I immediately exclaimed, clinging onto his arm.

He stared at me, a startled expression on his face.

My eyes widened, falling to the floor as I dropped my hold on him as if he were burning me. "I-I mean, don't leave because of me," I stuttered a response, mentally kicking myself.

Jared laughed and took my small hand in between his. The perpetual ocean wind knocked against us, driving me closer into the protective embrace of Jared's shadow. I looked up hesitantly, a small embarrassed smile on my features as I tried to produce a small laugh.

His gaze was bewitching when he spoke, "I never want to leave."

He could have kissed me right then. We were barely inches apart and some inexplicable force kept drawing us nearer and nearer. I had lost all will to take oxygen into my system and could live the rest of my life gazing into Jared's deep eyes.

His grip on my hand tightened, his eyes flickered to my waiting lips.

It was my chance to become the main girl of the movie rather than a mere spectator. It was my chance to finally show Jared how much I loved and yearned for him.

Closer.

The movement was so quick it barely registered as Jared pulled away from me, leaving me shivering in the cold wind at the top of my front porch steps. There was a tortured expression in his eyes. As if he would rather stab himself a million times than pull away. But he had, and with his hands in his pockets I knew he wasn't coming back.

"Sorry," I mumbled, a blush creeping up my cheeks, "I couldn't…I…I shouldn't have…"

He silenced me with the soothing sound of his deep baritone voice, "No. Don't apologize Kim. I basically forced myself on you and I feel horrible. Please don't apologize for something that's not your fault."

Forced himself on me? And here I was under the impression that I was acting like a girl who has never been kissed…which actually is the case. Scratch that. If he wanted to force himself on me I don't think he'd see me complaining. I was his, body and soul.

A silence fell down upon us, and I desperately searched for anything to say in order to keep his attention, "Um…do you want to," my voice progressed into a squeak, "come in?"

His head snapped up, and a wild grin took over his face, "I would love to."

Jared wanted to come into my house. Jared wanted to spend time with me. For a second I thought I would just burst out of my skin with pure happiness. This was undoubtedly the best moment of my short existence. I stood there, on the front porch of my little house, gazing down at Jared, a goofy dazzled smile on my face.

"So…are we going to go in?" Jared shifted on his feet, looking up at me from underneath his dark bangs.

A royal blush came up from my neck as I hiccupped in embarrassment. "Oh. Right. Yeah," I wanted to bang my head on the wall for acting like such a giggly ditz.

I lead Jared into my house, gazing at him shyly from the corner of my eye as I tried to gauge his reaction to our humble house. I suddenly wished that my mom would have taken up that painting project that would have covered the peeling blue wallpaper of our front entrance. I wished I would have watered the fern by the living room - with its brown, dying leaves it was a pitiful and sad sight.

I spoke up, self-conscious, "I know it's not much-"

Jared interrupted me before I could even finish, "It's great! You have a nice house."

Those five words cast my living quarters into an entire new light, and I found myself smiling at the broken mahogany cabinet, finding a simple charm in its discomfited state. Angie was waiting for us. For all that she tried to act completely nonchalant as I brought Jared into the living room, I knew she had been holding her breath. She looked up casually, giving me a lazy smile and Jared an interested pass over.

"So, are you Jared?" she drawled, flipping the channel with the hand that wasn't tossed over the top of the couch.

Jared light up, offering her his hand, "Jared Thail."

Angie nodded diplomatically. "Nice to meet you Jared, I'm Angie, Kim's one and only best friend," she winked in my direction, tempting me to challenge her.

I rolled my eyes and laughed, casting Angie a poignant look, "Actually, Angie was just leaving, weren't you?"

Without missing a beat, Angie jumped to her feet, quickly slipping into her shoes, she plastered on a serious face as she explained to Jared, "Oh, yeah, family emergency, you know. My brother swallowed a nut."

Jared looked confused, so Angie rushed to finish, "He's allergic."

There was a still silence. I frowned; Angie didn't even have a brother. Jared looked like he was trying hard not to laugh, that much I could deduct from the amused look he gave me. Angie, sensing the general atmosphere rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Well, I'm off. Kim, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she threw me one final wink, waving merrily to Jared as she skipped out of the room, "And if you do, take pictures!"

My eyes widened and I hoped Jared had gone momentarily deaf, "She doesn't mean that."

He raised en eyebrow, "I think I might need to look over your photo albums before I decide that."

A laugh bubbled through my lips, shaking my thin frame. Jared followed suit, his entire being lighting up at my laughter. We fell down onto the couch, still laughing. Laughing with Jared was so natural – it made me feel completely free or all restraints, as if I could fly. Our laughter finally died down, and that's when I noticed how close we were. The natural indentation of the red couch had herded us both to the middle, joining me and Jared from toe to hip, from hip to shoulder. Actually, in our case, it was more of hip to shoulder/chest, considering Jared's impressive height even while seated. He looked adorable. His messy hair had fallen down into his eyes once more, and they twinkled playfully from underneath, smiling at me with that glorious grin of his. I couldn't help myself. Gravity was pushing me towards him. I craned my neck forward, getting too lost in his eyes to notice how impossibly close we were.

"Kim! Where do we keep the potatoes?" my mom marched, still holding a pot in her hand.

We flew apart, Jared trying to appear as casual as possible by humming lightly and looking up at the ceiling. I gulped heavily, fidgeting nervously with my hands together in my lap. My mom cast a critical eye over our, now, much separated positions. Once she was sure that we were far enough that I would not even be able to catch an airborne virus from Jared, she walked right back into the kitchen.

"Don't worry, I'll find them!" she called back, a little too much happiness in her voice for my pleasure.

"Sorry," I whispered, not even daring to look at the gorgeous boy beside me.

Jared chuckled lightly, reaching out hesitantly to ruffle my hair, "You really need to stop apologizing for my mistakes."

We fell into silence. I couldn't tear my eyes off the sun-god beside me. One though ran through my head, predominant, a little wisp of unspeakable hope. What did Jared mean by his words? Could…could he possible mean…

_Did he want to kiss me_?

Just as I was mounting the courage, which, trust me, is a lot of courage I don't have, to ask him just that, he cut through the silence with a sad, broken whisper.

"You cried."

I didn't know what to say. For some reason, assuring him I cried very often because of him didn't seem like a good idea.

Jared leaned forward, searching my eyes, "I'm sorry. I should have done something. But you ran away. Why?"

Tears started accumulating behind my eyes at the sadness I saw in Jared. I was confused. I pushed the tears down, swallowing noisily. I had to come off clean, "Jared, I-I…I…You saw me after Paul…_humiliated_ me…I was so embarrassed. I didn't want you to think of me as a complete loser. I'm sorry."

I looked down at my hands in my lap, my black hair shifting forward to cover my face. He would never want to talk to me again now. I couldn't believe I had just said that. And then, I heard the oddest, the most wonderful sound in the entire world.

Laughter.

Jared was laughing.

Before I was even aware of what was happening, Jared had wrapped me in a huge bear hug, literally suffocating me in his warmth. I was surprised, completely caught off guard. And then, it felt nice. I was definitely no longer on the couch, if anything I was on Jared's lap. Jared, the love of my life Jared, funny, handsome, amazing Jared, was hugging me. I could smell his unique scent, a comforting mix of pine and ocean that warmed my entire being.

"You silly girl," Jared warm breath tickled my ear, "You are the most amazing person I have ever met. Never a loser."

I nearly fainted. I could feel the shift of his muscles under his shirt, his large hot hands wrapped around the small of my back, his lips near my ear. I was having a hard time remembering how to breathe.

And then, my mom apparated in the living room, wielding an impressive looking knife, "Kim! The potatoes are cooking!"

This time, Jared literally threw me across the couch as I tried to get as far away from him as possible. I grabbed onto the armrest, trying to stabilize my breathing before my mother noticed how flushed and out of breath I was.

"That's nice, mom," I worded slowly, in a dead pan.

My mother looked confused for a moment and then, looking quickly from me to Jared, nodded resolutely, "I thought you should know."

After another tense moment of silence, my mother gave another satisfied nod and pompously retreated back into the kitchen. Jared craned his neck, following her path back. I sighed loudly, turning his attention back to me.

"Do you want to go up to my room?" I almost stuttered nervously, giving a roll of my eyes in the direction of where my mother had just stood.

Jared's eyes flickered quickly to the great blue clock that decorated the mantle place and his entire face fell, "I have to go. Sam only let me off for an hour, and I should be getting back."

My voice sounded strange in my own ears, "Oh."

I walked him quietly to the door, trying to memorize his graceful and sure moments so my daydreams would be more accurate. Darkness had fallen, and for once, the moon was visible in the sky above, surrounded by an entourage of stars. I gazed at Jared, trying gage the hesitant expression in his eyes.

"Kim, I…" he trailed off, unsure.

I stood still, reveling in the way his eyes bore into mine with such intensity.

He let out a large gush of air and swore loudly into the air. I was taken back; I had never heard Jared swear before. Then, in a fast burst of speed he captured me in his arms and planted a solid kiss on my cheek. I was positive I fainted right then and there.

Jared Thail had just kissed me.

And just like that he ran off into the darkness.

I just stood there, and for all the frigidness of the night I was warm from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Warm, so very warm. I gently touched the spot where Jared had just kissed me.

When my mom came out to find me, I was still giggling, a goofy grin all over my face.

* * *

_Aw, aren't they so cute together? :) This was a long one, peeps, so be content. On the downside, however, I must announce that I will not be updating tomorrow. I live in the US of A and thus must actively participate in Independence Day, fireworks, cook-outs and all that jazz. Oh, and one more thing. There are 43 people that have this on their alerts. So. I'm watching you! I want 43 reviews. Yup. I am a greedy little child and will not be content with less. Really, I respond to all reviews and love to hear from you! Don't be shy and drop off a comment! :) _

_Have a lovely fourth of July!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	12. The Actor and the Spectator 11

**Chapter 11**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

The euphoria eventually wore down.

Sure, I was happy about Jared kissing me. That one kiss had been the climax of my entire life so far; everything before had just been leading up to it. But a few hours later, wrapped in wool covers in the sanctity of my bed I replayed that moment in my mind and no longer ended up giggling like a little girl.

No matter how much I decided to overlook it, the fact was that Jared had ran away without a word right after kissing me. Not that I have been kissed a lot, but that doesn't strike me as the correct protocol. No, it struck me as cowardly and very mean.

I tossed in my bed, glaring at the dark ceiling of my room. The tree outside my window groaned in the howling wind that lashed against the wooden sides of the house. The darkness of the night made all the small noises more audible to me as I tried to fall asleep.

What kind of a guy leaves the girl after he kissed her?

A jerk.

My bed creaked loudly as I turned onto my side, frowning at the shadows that played on the floor with the mysterious white light of the crescent moon. My irritation was rising by the minute, and the angry red flashes coming from my alarm clock were not helping. How could he? The Jared I knew would never have done that. Never. It was insensitive and inherently tactless.

"Jared wouldn't do that," I whispered heatedly into the dark.

My clock answered with a red wink, taunting me.

"There is a reason behind all this," I continued conversationally, the resentment fading out of my tiny voice.

Another red blink.

Then I heard it; a slight clattering noise. The only reason I noticed it amongst all the small noises of the night was its proximity to me. It sounded as if it was coming from right inside my room.

I sat up in the bed, pulling the covers around me in a protective shield. Everything was shrouded in a perpetual darkness, the only movement coming from the shadows cast by the moon through my tree. My heart began to pick up as I heard the noise yet again.

"Hello?" I squeaked meekly, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that might be creating the noise.

My answer was yet another clatter. And this one was much louder.

It was coming from the window.

Fear of the dark had managed to stay with me throughout my teenage years. I mean, I wasn't necessarily scared of the dark. More like I was scared of what could be hiding under the shadows, uncaught by my eye. So it wasn't surprising that I almost screamed for my mother. Two things stopped me. One: the stone that flew in through a tiny crack in my window to land on the floor of my room, and two: gravity.

I must have looked like quite the sight. Before stepping off my bed I had secured all my many blankets around me, giving me the more appearance of a giant caterpillar than that of a human girl. I staggered my way toward the window on the tips of my toes, very slowly, a part of me curious as to what awaited me.

The window creaked as I opened it carefully, just to see a small pebble headed straight for my face.

I let out a startled cry as I ducked, falling to the floor in a large commotion under the weight of the thousand and one wool blankets. The blankets were suffocating me. I thrashed around, trying to rip them all off my small frame.

"Kim?" a voice floated up, muffled.

My thrashing stopped as I recognized that voice. I would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Jared?" I asked the night air, still stuck on the floor.

It was like I had summoned him. He was suddenly beside me, helping me out of all the covers which I had apparently only succeeded in wrapping more tightly around me with all my flailing. He leaned back on his bare feet when he was done, gazing at me with a far away look in his dark eyes. I rubbed my neck as I watched him, and almost chocked on my tongue when I realized what was off.

He wasn't wearing a shirt. No shirt. Only baggy cut off jeans that hung to his hips.

My mouth must have dropped open as I ogled him, trying unsuccessfully to make some sort of noise, let alone a coherent remark. He was a god. A beautiful, mortal god.

And he was in my room. In the middle of the night.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, trying to rip my eyes off his sculpted abs.

Jared ran one of his large hands through his mane of unruly locks, a habit he seemed to have when he was nervous, "I-I had to see you."

My brain was still attempting to deliver the message to me when he rushed forward, continuing.

"About today. Look, I shouldn't have left you after I kissed you. That was…well…_wrong_. What kind of a guy does that?"

"A jerk," I answered helpfully, very occupied drooling over him to be conscious of what was coming out of my mouth.

Jared looked like he wanted nothing more than to jump into a lake and drown; his entire face crumpled and I could see the horrible piercing pain in his eyes.

I recovered instantly and reached out to him, placing my hand over his, "But since you aren't one, a jerk that is, I know there is some sort of rational explanation as to why you left."

His eyes searched my face and he smiled at what he saw there, though his voice was serious, "I have to tell you something."

I smiled and nodded amicably, "Okay."

He gently took my hand and helped me to my feet, gathering me to him as he lead me to the window, "Let's go to the beach."

I swiveled around to look at him, incredulous, "Now? It's the middle of the night!"

"Do you trust me?" he asked, obviously ignoring my last observation.

I would have laughed, but my breath had caught in my throat, "Yes."

No sooner had the word come out of my mouth that he hoisted me onto his back, instructing me to hold onto him tightly. And not to scream. I figured out why he made that last request when he jumped out of my second story window to the hard ground below. My scream was more a strangled gurgle and I probably cut off Jared's circulation, I held onto him so hard.

As soon as I got my breath back it was only to scramble off Jared's back and hiss at him angrily, "What on _earth_ was that for? Couldn't we just have used the door, like any _normal_ person?"

A sheepish expression settled on Jared's face, "I actually hadn't thought of that."

I stared, "Oh."

Of course. When thinking of how to leave a room, jumping at the window makes so much more sense than walking out the door. Silly me.

He ran a hand through his arm, stretching at the same time, "So, shall we head over to the beach?"

"What are we waiting for?" I grinned at him, slipping my hand into his.

At first he looked at me surprised, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as we took off into the night, running down the empty streets.

I think he had been expecting me to bail out and head right back to my warm bed after my slightly angry outburst. But Jared obviously didn't know the extent to which I loved him. Or the adrenaline that was now coursing through my system. I was curious. Not only to hear his explanation, but also as to why we were going to the beach in the middle of the night. It was mysterious, and in my book, that definitely meant romantic. It was so clandestine, so forbidden. My mother would kill me and Jared for sure if she ever found out about this. And it only made it that much sweeter.

First beach was awe-inspiring at night. The inky sky had been cleared of all clouds and was reflected into the black water of the ocean, creating a sparkling mirror of its glory. Soft waves lapped at the startling white shore, making a soothing noise as it rolled and swallowed small pebbles and rocks. I smiled and melted further into Jared's strong arms.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked gently, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I looked up at him, "If you think I should, I will."

He nodded to himself, murmuring as he deftly set me down on a large smooth stone, "Yeah, it's probably a good idea."

The moon stood as a silent witness, casting sinuous ripples on the dark gleaming water. My bare feet were cold and the cow-patterned blue pajama did not provide much of a break against the artic wind. I shifted on the stone, trying to make myself comfortable as Jared took to pacing in tight circles right in front of me. He was muttering zealously under his breath, quick phrases that he rethought with a quick shake of his head.

I hadn't given much thought to what exactly the explanation for his behavior was going to be. To tell the truth I had gotten too caught up in the simple reality that Jared, Jared that I had loved obsessively ever since I first set eyes on him, had snuck into my room and brought me down to the captivating night beach. Everyday that I had come home, everyday Jared didn't know who I was had caused me to cry and rage against the unfairness of the world. My heart had ached and I remember vaguely wondering if I would be condemned to love someone who didn't know me forever.

Thursday.

The day that changed my entire life. The day Jared noticed me.

And we had come a long way from Thursday. He had hugged me, he had kissed me, he had come to my house and most importantly, I had gotten to know him better.

Two days.

The importance of this explication fell on me. A familiar worry churned in my stomach, what if he came to tell me he didn't feel that way about me? It would kill me as surely as a silver dagger.

Before I could jump to any unlikely conclusions, Jared stopped pacing. His entire body, so tense before, relaxed, as if someone had poured warm water over his head. A mature expression had taken over his face, and though I could only see him from the side, I knew that if I looked into his impossibly dark eyes I would find them guarded from me.

He walked slowly, hesitantly, as if he didn't want to scare me and crouched down gracefully in front of me. The warmth that radiated from him made my skin burn and I found the impulse to lean forward and wrap my arms around him. His hand, coming to rest on my shoulder, almost covered my entire collarbone. I couldn't help but shiver as the wind caught his words.

"Kim, I need you to hear me out. I won't make you promise to stay, but I beg you to hear everything I have to say. Its probably going to be hard to understand, but I'm going to try my best," he was serious, and his air had a certain steeliness about it.

I nodded, a gesture so small I'm surprised he caught it.

He turned his eyes to the moon above him and took in a deep ragged breath, "Kim, do you know the legends of our tribe?"

I cocked my head to one side, "About the spirit warriors?"

"Yes. Those ones."

Another small nod on my part as I dropped my gaze to his free hand resting on his knee, "They were the nighttime stories my mother used to tell me."

"What if I told you they were real?"

Our eyes locked. The wind rustled in my ear, muting the night. I could feel the sea though the small vibrations of the waves in the rocks at my feet. My voice had vanished into the darkness that surrounded us. I couldn't respond.

Jared moved closer to me, his hand moving in a trail of fire from my shoulder to my cheek. My eyes closed involuntarily at the sensation and my mouth opened slightly, trying to absorb more oxygen into my fainting system.

"Kim."

His soft spoken command forced me to open my eyes. His inhalation made a noise in the air, a noise of apprehension and determination.

I answered precipitately, breathily, "Jared."

A brush of his long fingers against my brow. Somewhere inside me I acknowledged that if he moved his hand again I would faint.

The heart of the night stopped beating, and the world stilled. His next words caught in the air.

"Kim, I'm a werewolf."

* * *

_Ahhh! Jared's a werewolf! Who would have guessed! ;) So. That's another cliffy for you, dears! How will Kim react? Any thoughts? Please let me know, peeps! Hope you enjoyed! ;)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	13. The Actor and the Spectator 12

**Chapter 12**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

"_Kim, I'm a werewolf."_

My first reaction was to laugh. It had to be a joke. Werewolves didn't exist. And if they did, I was sure I would know about it.

I grinned and leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially in Jared's ear, "Jared, I'm a vampire."

He scared me in his intensity, the way he shook me slightly as if to wake me up, "Don't joke, Kim. If you were a vampire, you would be my mortal enemy. I would have destroyed you the first time I laid eyes on you."

It was in the way he said destroyed. He didn't say killed, or murdered, or even slaughtered. He said destroyed, as if vampires could not be taken care of any other way. My smile instantly disappeared from my face and I felt a quiver travel up my spine, causing me to wrap my arms around my small frame.

"Werewolves don't exist," I piped up, my voice very high pitched.

Jared moved away from me, standing up in one smooth motion. His expression was hidden from me, and the air around was filled with unspoken apprehension and a tinge of fear that most likely came from me.

And then he turned to gaze at me. There was no need for words; I saw everything clearly in his eyes. In the slight creases at the end of his eyes I saw his worry that I would run away, that I would not let him explain. In his blinking eyelashes I saw his reassurance that he would never hurt me, that I should not be afraid. And in his eyes I saw the one emotion I had always searched for in him, a gentle emotion that spread calm throughout my entire being.

I dug my hands underneath my arms and planted my feet firmly on the ground.

I nodded, just as a cloud drifted across the moon's path.

Jared's entire body began to shake uncontrollably, his figure blurring before my very eyes. His bones cracked loudly, like rocks snapping apart. Everything was elongating, growing, bigger and bigger. He had a tail now, and fur was spreading like paint all over him.

Just as suddenly as it started it was done and the most enormous of wolves was standing where Jared had once stood.

It was the bear.

All the puzzle pieces pieced themselves together in my mind, dominoes falling over each other in rapid succession. The bears were werewolves. Jared was in Sam Uley's house, Sam who seemed uncomfortable with me bringing up the bears. Sam Uley that was most likely a werewolf as well, along with all the gigantic boys that all seemed to form a gang. The howl I had heard Thursday night in the midst of the rain, it was Jared, howling to the moon. Jared was a werewolf.

I fell off the stone I was sitting on in shock as I continued to stare at the wolf. He had yet to move, but when he saw me fall off the stone he subconsciously made to move forward before he could stop himself.

Jared.

The wolf was Jared.

I crawled forward, my hands slipping noisily on the stones of the beach, causing them to clatter against one another. I was captivated. The closer I got the more massive the wolf seemed to become. It was easily the size of a bear, if not the size of a horse. The wolf cocked his head to one side, his ears twitching straight up. I stopped and stared. He looked human. A deep rumble shook the large animal. He was laughing.

I couldn't help myself, I laughed right along with it, falling onto the beach, hard stones digging into my ribs painfully.

This gave the giant wolf courage and he moved forward slowly, as not to startle me, until he was right above me. I flipped over onto my back and looked up at him, only to find Jared's beautiful eyes chuckling down at me.

Jared.

I reached up tentatively, running my hands through the soft fur on his muzzle. Jared closed his eyes and made a deep rumbling clamor that sounded suspiciously like purring.

"Jared?" my voice was soft.

He licked my face with his long pink tongue, making me break out in giggles once more as I tried to wipe off my cheek, "Jared!"

Gently, without harming me, he used one massive paw to push me away, sitting me up as his figure began to blur and tremble once more.

In another view of the supernatural, Jared, human Jared, stood before me.

Before, being so caught up in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed him taking off his pants. But now it was glaringly obvious that he was completely and utterly naked.

I almost tripped over my feet as I turned around; blushing so hard I was surprised I didn't start glowing red in the darkness.

I squeaked, "J-Jared! Y-You're…um…well…put some pants on!"

His loud rumbling laugh caught me off guard, "Turn around Kim, I'm decent."

Thankfully his cutoff jeans were on him once more, because the sight of a gloriously naked Jared might have given me a coronary. A naughtier part of my mind smiled smugly and whispered possessively, _my_ Jared.

"You're a werewolf," I stated, taking in a huge breath.

Jared tensed and came towards me slowly, hardly making a sound as he sat down next to me, "Yes."

His warmth enveloped me in safe cocoon, lulling me closer, but Jared just inched away slightly, without even making it seem like he was doing it. He wasn't ready to touch me yet.

"That's pretty awesome. I've never meet a werewolf before," I radiated with a sunny smile.

Jared stared at me, fighting the smile that I knew was creeping onto his face, "Awesome?"

I swung my legs back and forth, my eyes twinkling, "Yeah, awesome! So, tell me, what are the perks? Is that why you're so warm?"

"Kim. About the perks…well, there is something I need to tell you. It's called imprinting," Jared chocked out, his eyes never leaving mine.

My legs stopped swinging at the force I saw, "Imprinting?"

His soft black hair fell into his eyes and he impatiently shook it away, "Imprinting. Imprinting is like gravity. The spirit warriors from the legends, they had mates, partners that represented the other half of them. That's one thing about werewolves. We have soul mates. One true love. And when we find our soul mates it's like the world shifts, the sun is no longer the center of our gravity. It's her. That's imprinting."

I couldn't breathe as Jared timidly reached forward with a tremulous hand and placed it gently on my cheek, tenderly caressing my eyes, nose and mouth with his warm long fingers. He grew more bold, as if he could hear my heart pounding inside me at 120 miles per hour, and placed his other hand on my shoulder, pulling me gently towards him. His forehead came to rest on mine as one of his hands tangled itself in my hair. My wide dark eyes had yet to leave the deep pools of passion that his had become. I was completely helpless in his arms.

His hot breath tickled the side of my face as he whispered in my ear, "I imprinted on you, Kim Roue."

I could hardly believe my ears, and the sensations his proximity was causing had me struggling to gulp down air. My head was spinning. My stomach had long ago burst into a thousand fluttering butterflies that refused to go away. His eyes were once again locked with mine, his lips only a hairbreadth away from mine. My exhalations were his inhalations. He smelled so good. Like pine and ocean.

"Kim, I love you."

I burst out in tears, hysterical sobs shaking me. Jared was instantly gathering me into him, worriedly checking me to make sure my tears were not caused by any foreign object.

"Kim, please don't cry," he begged quietly, futilely attempting to wipe away my tears with his thumb.

I gulped out an answer in a watery sob, "Jared…Jared, oh Jared."

He shushed me softly, rocking me as if I were a child, "Kim, tell me what I did wrong, please, it hurts to see you cry. If you don't love me-"

I cut him off in the middle of his rant, "Jared, I've dreamt of this moment for so many years, I just didn't believe it would ever come true. That's why I'm crying. I love you. I love you so much."

It was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. He started slowly, delicately kissing my tears away, rubbing comforting circles on my back. His strong arms pulled me closer and I tangled my hands in his soft black hair. Then, in a moment I would always remember, his lips descended slowly onto mine. I kissed him back, relishing in the heat and beauty of it. He grasped the back of my neck to deepen the kiss, sending me headlong into him.

The lulling crash of the waves on the rocky shore sounded faintly in the background as we broke apart, breathing heavily. The most stunning of smiles broke out on his face, a smile I'm sure he found reflected in me.

"I love you," he intoned in his deep baritone.

I leaned forward and kissed him lightly, "And I love you."

It was always me and Jared. It was his name that I doodled inside thousands of pink hearts. It was of him that I dreamed of. It was he who made me laugh. Jared was my true love, and I his soul mate. And as cheesy as it may sound, as we found ourselves together underneath the diamond studded sky, we were one.

See that girl laughing, wrapped up in the embrace of the tall, handsome boy with the dark brown eyes?

That's me. Kim.

* * *

_So? What do you think? Let me know! On another note, I would like to mention that this is the last chapter in _The Actor and the Spectator_ that will be in Kim's point of view. I feel like her thoughts have been tied up quite nicely so I want to leave it as such. I will be writing a few more chapters in the point of view of other characters in the story. If you have anyone in particular that you would really want to see, please let me know. As of now I think I might do Emma, maybe Angie and perhaps a member of the pack. Keep those reviews coming and until next time, darlings!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	14. The Actor and the Spectator 13

**Chapter 13**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

- _Jacob Black_ –

* * *

I guess you could call it ironic.

Or perhaps fate. Yeah. A lot of people called it fate.

Embry liked to name it gooey. And pink.

I think it bordered on the point of sickening.

When Jared imprinted on Kim, none of us knew what to expect. First off, we never thought of imprinting as common; Sam was just a special case. I mean, come on, he _is_ our alpha. Then, like a gun shot, one more man down. Jared: victim to the disease.

And then there is the issue of Kim Roue.

No one really knew who she was. To us she was just another invisible girl with the tattle-tale dark skin and dark hair. Embry thought it was funny, mostly due to the fact that he knew she had a hobby of writing _Mrs. Kim Thail_ in flowing pink letters onto any scrap of paper she could get her hands on. If anything, she was known as Jared's stalker. Psychotic, shy and always trailing after him like some long lost puppy.

Imagine our surprise when Jared blurts out that he imprinted on Kim.

Kim Roue. The girl with the not-so-healthy-obsession about him.

-

Jared brought her over to meet the pack, in what had been established as a rite of passage, for dinner at Sam and Emily's. We were all lounging in the living room, Paul seething because Embry had managed to beat him at some board game, when the happy couple arrived.

She was almost completely hidden behind Jared's imposing frame as he gently coaxed her into the living room. I knew it meant a lot to him what we thought of her, and what she thought of us. The last thing Jared wanted was for us to scare her. A daunting task, not scaring her was - seeing as we _are_ a pack of werewolves.

"Kim, I want you to meet the rest of the pack," Jared grinned, waving grandly at us.

Feeling partially responsible, I got up and smiled at her kindly as I offered her my hand, "I'm Jacob."

She was surprisingly tiny. Everything about her was defined in thin planes. Her head barely came up to my chest. She looked up at me shyly, a hesitant but nice smile on her lips.

"It's really nice to meet you, Jacob."

I was surprised at how shy she was. Judging by the way Embry had spoken of her, I half expected an avid fan-girl decked out in a t-shirt plastered with a picture of Jared's face. Instantly, I felt myself warm up to this girl.

Grinning more at ease, I motioned to the couch, "The two acting like immature two year olds are Seth and Colin," Seth let out a squeaky protest while Colin rolled his eyes, "That's Paul, he's still sore about losing Monopoly," Paul let out a mumbled growl of protest that sounded suspiciously like he was accusing Embry of cheating, "You know Embry," Embry gave a fantastical and enthusiastic wave, "Quil is stuffing his face," Quil heard me and smiled brilliantly, "And, finally, the girl is Leah," Leah let out a very ladylike grunt.

Kim looked a bit overwhelmed at all this information; her large eyes widened even more as her tiny smile grew.

"Hi everyone, I'm Kim," her voice was quiet, but kind.

Paul opened his mouth with the intention to make some sort of jibe at the girl, but was silenced before he even began by a murderous glare from Jared. Instead, the temperamental werewolf awkwardly mumbled, "Hey, Kim."

Kim light up at Paul's admission, however reluctant it was, and I was struck by how beautiful it made her otherwise plain face. Jared smiled proudly, and wrapped his arms around her tighter.

"S-So…um…what do you guys do for fun?" Kim stuttered, blushing slightly.

Quil was the one that answered, "Well, when we're not out tracking bloodthirsty vampires, we usually go down to the beach and try to get hot girls."

Embry cheered, sloshing water all down his front in his exuberant movement.

It was shy, little Kim who took me by surprise.

"Like Samantha Mallory? Is she hot? She wears very…um…skimpy outfits, and she has lots of…curves?" Kim finished with an even deeper blush and a slight frown on her brow.

All eight werewolves, including Jared, who was staring at her with a shocked expression like he was going to faint, stopped what we were doing to turn our utterly and completely surprised eyes onto the girl.

Kim balked, an uneasy smile on her lips, "Am I right?"

Quil and Embry broke the silence. Identical grins wound their way onto their glowing faces. Embry jumped up and attacked Kim in what looked to be a gigantic bear hug. I'm fairly sure I heard Kim squeak with surprise and a little bit of fear from inside Embry's arms.

"You are officially my new best friend!" Embry gushed, glowing down at Kim as he spun her around haphazardly.

I was starting to worry about her safety, but I shouldn't have. In a record of one second, Jared had Kim safely back on the floor and in his arms.

"Okay, now, if we are all done traumatizing my girlfriend, do you think we could move into the kitchen for dinner?" Jared asked us wryly, shooting a none too friendly glare at Embry and Quil.

-

As soon as we were finished ravishing the dinner table, Emily, in a surprisingly clever maneuver, commandeered Kim. Before Jared could even form a word of protest, the two girls had locked themselves in Sam's office for some quality Girl Time. Neither Sam nor Jared seemed especially happy about this, but, personally, I thought Jared had much more to fear. If Kim learned even half of Emily's tricks, he might as well say goodbye to any sort of freedom.

"She's quite the girl, Kim, isn't she?" I commented casually.

Jared instantly melted, eyes glazing over and a goofy smile settling on his lips, "Yeah. She is."

I rolled my eyes.

Embry, having caught onto the conversation, immediately inserted himself, "Awwww, little Jared in luuuvee. I gotta say, she's nice to look at…if you're into the shy girl thing."

Jared chucked a salt shaker at Embry's face, "She's my imprintee, you idiot."

Quil leaned forward, "So, does she have any sisters?"

I let out a great bellow of a laugh. Even Paul seemed to crack a smile for that one.

Leah just rolled her eyes.

Yes. It was pink. And gooey.

And yes, it did border on the verge of sickening to see the looks of completely and utter love and awe in Jared and Kim's eyes as they smiled gently at each other.

But above all, it was fate. Because for all her shyness, Kim was exactly what Jared was looking for.

* * *

_I love me some Jacob! So sweet and amazing :runs off happily to hug Jacob:. I know this was short, but I felt like we needed to touch upon the pack outlook of life. After all, Kim is becoming a _wolf-girl_. So the wolf perspective was required. As always, let me know what you think, darlings!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	15. The Actor and the Spectator 14

**Chapter 14**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

_- Emma Grace Roue -_

* * *

For me, the answer had always been books.

_1000 Ways to Survive College _had been there for me through my four years of schooling.

Thomas waltzed into my life; I keep _Boys 101_ handy.

When I met with Thomas's parents, a copy of _Monster-in-Law: How Not to Screw up the Encounter_ was in my coat pocket.

Our wedding was very similar to idea 362 in _Sound those Wedding Bells: A Simple Approach to Planning the Big Day_.

Pregnancies were handled by the classic _Pregnancy for Dummies_.

For the miscarriages there was vodka and also the convenient _Three Easy Steps to Fight Depression_.

Then, along came Kim, bringing with her an onslaught of books with titles ranging from _Dr. Freud's Psychological Approach to a Child's Mental Growth_ to _Handling that Meatloaf_.

Books had never failed me. That is, until Jared Thail showed up on our front door step.

-

It was a Saturday. For once, the weather was cooperating, the sun was bursting through the clouds and the birds were singing. Our plan was to go up to the trails for a hike and a picnic; I was busy in the kitchen getting together the sandwiches, apples, drinks and snacks, all ready to go in my warm hiking attire; Thomas and Kim were getting the tent into the car in case it rained.

The doorbell rang.

"I'LL GET IT!" I yelled out, wiping my hands off quickly.

Imagine my surprise when I found that boy, Jamie – or was it Jared? – awkwardly holding a dozen white lilies in his large hands right on the doorstep of my house.

At first, I had no idea what to think. In my mind, I vaguely remembered hearing Kim say that she liked this boy. I had brushed it off when she said that: the boy was positively the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life, I don't think any sixteen year old would stand a chance of not falling head over heels for Jared Thail's impressive physique. My eyes were transfixed on the dozen flowers in his grasp.

"Hello Mrs. Roue, is Kim home?" he had a rich baritone voice.

I stared blankly at him. Kim? He wanted to know if Kim was home?

"Jared!" Kim raced past me, flying into his arms.

The scene unfolded before me as if in slow-motion. Jared, enveloping Kim's tiny frame in his strong arms. Fear flashed through me: he looked capable of easily snapping her in half. He handed her the flowers, causing shy Kim to blush to the very roots of her hair and whisper a breathy thank you. And then, the godly boy, probably the school player, kissed my daughter before my very eyes.

I let out a strangled scream and rushed forward, forcibly pulling Kim away from him, "Get away from my daughter, you savage!"

My loud screaming attracted Thomas, who took in the strange scene before him. Jared was blushing and looking intensely uncomfortable, I was gripping Kim so tightly to me that my knuckled were strained white, yelling out incoherent sounds, and Kim was protesting loudly, trying to fight me and get back to the enormous boy.

"MOM! LET ME GO!" Kim screamed indignantly.

I held on tighter, glaring at Jared, "BARBARIAN! HOW DARE YOU!"

Jared was apologizing profusely, looking extremely agonized, "I am so sorry, Mrs. Roue! That was unacceptable behavior on my part, I am sorry-"

"MOM! HE'S MY BOYFRIEND!" Kim struggled against me.

The world seemed to stop. I chocked on my own spit. Boyfriend? BOYFRIEND?

"Boyfriend?" I asked weakly.

Kim took advantage of my momentary lapse and rushed to stand by Jared, "Mother, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before and took you by surprise. Mother, Father, I want you to met Jared Thail, my boyfriend."

Thomas's blue eyes crinkled at the side with his smile, "Jared Thail? I'm Thomas, Kim's father. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Jared grasped Thomas's hand in a firm handshake, "It's nice to meet you, sir. I would like to apologize for my forward behavior."

My mouth was still open in horror. A faint squeaking escaped me.

_Boyfriend_?

Thomas chuckled warmly, "Not at all, Emma was just surprised."

That was the moment I found out our daughter, our precious shy and sensitive little Kim, was dating a guy who was probably going to break her heart once he had everything he wanted from her. Kim, who had never even had a friend of the male gender, was dating Jared Thail.

-

For the first time in my life, I had no book to turn to. No matter how hard I searched, _How to Deal with your Sixteen Year Old Daughter's Six Foot Something First Boyfriend who Probably has Less than Honorable Intentions_ was not to be found.

So I improvised.

And I bought a copy of _Inside the CIA: Interrogation and Espionage_.

-

"Emma, please, put down the binoculars," Thomas coaxed gently, with a hint of exasperation.

"Look at him! He's touching her again! That dirty little-" I muttered angrily under my breath, my narrowed eyes never leaving Jared Thail's enormous frame through the lens.

Thomas exhaled loudly, "Kim is an excellent judge of character, and Jared seems to have only the best intentions. You need to trust her."

I whipped around, my eyes fierce, "It's _him_ I don't trust."

Another sigh. Thomas casually placed his arms around me, "And don't think I don't know about the microphone in Kim's room."

I snorted, my face stuffed once more in the binoculars, "Well, _someone_ has to keep on eye on them, and I don't see you stepping up to the job."

"Do you want me to get you a sniper gun? Or perhaps some truth serum?" Thomas remarked wryly.

"Go away."

Thomas laughed and kissed my forehead, "Just let me know when you call in the SWAT team; I've been meaning to get some help to fix the washing machine."

-

"Mrs. Roue! It such a pleasure to finally meet you!" gushed Mrs. Thail, her pretty face positively glowing.

I twisted my face in a grimace that I hope resembled a smile, "Please, call me Emma."

"Emma it is then!" the stocky woman grinned, unhindered by my expression of pain, "I'm Dina, and this is my husband, Frank. FRANK!"

For a woman so small, she sure had a pair of lungs on her.

Frank immediately turned around from where he had been talked animatedly with a grinning Thomas, and offered me a firm handshake.

"Dina and I are so happy to have you over," the tall man beamed, his bright eyes shifting from Thomas to me.

Dina leaned forward and chuckled in a conspirator whisper, "Jared has been jittery all day for this! He even offered to help his father in the kitchen. Poor boy, he's been worried sick about making a good impression."

Thomas couldn't hold back a hysterical laugh and tried to cover it up with a cough, "Oh no, he's made a great impression on his good intentions from the very beginning. Hasn't he, darling?"

My smile resembled a gargoyle face, "Jared is a great boy. We have known that from the very first day he showed up on our front porch."

And tried to rape my daughter before my very eyes, I added on in my mind.

Dina and Frank either didn't catch the heavy sarcasm present in my voice or did a good job of hiding it.

"Well then, wouldn't want to keep the happy couple waiting, now, would we?" Dina smiled sweetly, before turning to holler up the stairs, "JARED! KIM! DINNER!"

It was a good thing Thomas had a good grip on my waist, because I almost fainted when I realized _that boy_ had been alone with _my little girl_ in a _bedroom_.

-

One salad, three assorted types of soup, ten fancy goat cheese wafers, two bites of the shepherd's pie, one leg of the stuffed turkey, half a baked potato, one slice of roast beef, two bowls of rice, and two teaspoons of cake later, I was sick.

"Are you feeling alright, Emma? You look a little green," Thomas asked, concerned.

"I couldn't possibly fit in another bite," I exhaled, struggling with nausea.

"Nonsense!" Dina quacked, "You haven't eaten a thing, Emma! Have some more turkey; there is plenty of gravy left!"

I felt the bile rise up in my throat and fought the urge to vomit.

"Do you want some more, Mom?" Jared inquired of Dina, helping himself to another serving of roast.

I gagged, pressing my hand to my mouth.

Jared Thail had devoured massive quantities of food. In fact, I'm pretty sure he ate at least half of everything. Where did he manage to put it all?

Maybe that's why he stood two feet over absolutely everyone at the table.

Freaky enormous boy.

Frank threw his grey head back, guffawing loudly at something Thomas had just said.

"You know how the corporate system works, Frank, the more complex the better," Thomas grinned, stretching his arms.

"Emma, how about some coffee and cookies for you?" Dina attacked once more.

I breathed in heavily through my nose. "No thanks," I managed to let out in a squeak.

"Kim and I are going to a concert tomorrow," Jared announced, looking fondly at my baby girl.

Kim blushed and grinned. Completely uncharacteristic of her.

"But…But Kim doesn't like concerts!" I blurted out, dropping my fork loudly.

I felt Thomas's hand on my shoulder.

Jared gazed at me and his entire expression crumpled. "Oh. I-I didn't know that. I'm sorry Kim, we don't have to go," he breathed, forlornly.

"I love concerts!" Kim burst out, casting me an outraged glare.

Thomas coughed loudly, interrupting, "A concert sounds like fun, who's playing?"

Jared and Kim launched themselves into an explanation at the same time, eager expressions on their matching glowing faces.

I felt like gagging again, but not because of the food this time.

Frank's obnoxious loud laugh cut through the rush of band names, singers, and songs, "Ah, young love. I think the future might hold the sound of wedding bells!"

Silence fell over the entire table. Frank looked pleased. Dina hiccupped, grinning almost slyly at her son. Jared blushed profusely, casting Kim a shy but loving look under his dark eyelashes. Kim's entire face was aglow with insurmountable happiness. Thomas leaned back into his chair, a thoughtful glint in his blue eyes, accompanied by a small quirk of his lips.

I couldn't stop myself.

I started crying, sobbing to be more precise, as if Frank had just announced a funeral.

-

Kim shrieked indignantly as Jared tackled her to the ground, easily taking the football from her small hands with a brief kiss before taking off towards the other end of their makeshift field.

"I'll get you for that, wolf boy!" Kim cried out at the top of her lungs.

Jared hooted wildly as he touched down, a goofy grin on his face, "Team Jared leading with 45 points! Glory, glory hallelujah!"

"That's right, gloat now, while you can," my girl jumped to her feet sprinting over to where the boy was standing and effectively swiping the ball from its place at his feet.

They had been dating for three months.

Three agonizing months.

I had tried everything. Infiltration, negotiation, interrogation, diversion, and surveillance. Nothing worked.

And I was losing motivation.

Because the truth that I couldn't ignore as a mother was that _Jared made Kim happy_.

She was always smiling now. Grinning even. She was still shy, but with Jared by her side she was willing to take on the world.

And Jared?

Well, the boy was slowly starting to gain my trust. He was completely dependent on Kim: if she was sad, he was sad; if she was hurt, he was the one that cried; if she was scared, he protected her; if she was happy, he was completely content.

I sighed.

Maybe Jared Thail wasn't that bad.

But I wasn't about to admit that for at least another three months.

-

"Mrs. Roue-"

"Emma," I interrupted, slightly vexed.

Jared took in a deep breath, "Emma."

I looked at him expectantly. "Yes?" I finally asked, crossing my arms.

The handsome boy seemed to choke slightly on his words, a distinctly uncomfortable and even scared expression on his dark features.

Kim cut in, placing a comforting hand on Jared's arm, "Mom, we need to talk."

I was going to start hyperventilating. Talk? That didn't sound any good at all. Thankfully I managed to get a hold of myself and instead nonchalantly shrugged as I stirred the tomato sauce, "I'm all ears."

"Preferably somewhere no one can hear us," Kim pushed.

The spoon clanged as it hit the pot, "Why?"

Kim grimaced and Jared looked like he wanted to bolt for the nearest door, "Mom. Please."

A sigh as I wiped my clean hands on my apron, nervous, "Fine. Lead the way."

A few seconds later all three of us were seated in Kim's small room. Jared sat awkwardly on the floor, his long legs stretched out before him, Kim perched herself on the bed and I took her chair, directly across from the both of them.

"Well?" I began tapping my foot anxiously, but I keep my demeanor aloft and cool.

Kim bit her lip and stuttered a bit, "I-I, well, w-we…"

I raised an imperious eyebrow.

"There is something you need to know about me, Mrs. Roue," Jared finally gushed.

"Emma."

"Right. Emma." He passed one large hand through his shaggy black hair, "You might have noticed I am more...err, tall – big? – than other boys my age? That my body temperature is considerably higher than the normal human, that I'm faster, stronger and look almost identical to Sam Uley, Paul Walker, Embry Call, Quil Ateara, Jacob Black-"

"Is there a point to all this?"

The teen flushed and I felt a tinge of guilt.

A very tiny tinge.

"He's a werewolf," Kim blurted, a desperate note in her usually calm voice.

Utter silence.

I burst out in uncontrollable laugher, holding my sides in as I tried not to roll off the tiny chair. "A werewolf!" I managed to wheeze out, "Yeah, and I'm a vampire!"

"That's what you said," mumbled Jared, only to be punched lightly in the shoulder by Kim.

That's when I realized that neither of them was laughing. I stopped.

Jared's face was darker, hidden in shadows, with an utterly serious expression rather than his usual grin.

I chocked, "B-but…"

Kim's huge brown eyes were apprehensive, "I don't lie."

Another silence.

My eyes widened.

My breath caught.

And then I started to scream. I screamed bloody murder, desperately clutching at the sides of my chair. I shrieked, yelled, hollered and screeched.

Thomas flew into the room; his hair completely disheveled and launched himself to my side, forcing me to look at him.

"EMMA! Emma, what on earth is the matter!" he cried, his expression a horrified mixture of worry.

I continued to scream, fighting Thomas to fix my eyes once more on the large Quileute boy.

The werewolf.

Kim was near tears, she kept on trying to tell me something, but I really couldn't hear her voice over my screeching. Jared had moved to hold her tightly against him and I was too shocked to do anything but remain petrified, screaming, even though every cell in my body commanded me to snatch my perfect little daughter from the monster's arms.

Thomas slumped, "Oh. They told you."

_That_ made me stop.

"WHAT?! You knew?!" my voice was hoarse, dangerous.

"Of course I knew. They told me three minutes ago. Don't think they hadn't thought of this scenario; I was told so I could help if need be," my husband explained calmly, soothingly caressing my tense hands.

"You knew?" I sounded like a broken record.

Thomas motioned for Kim and Jared to sit down, "Have they told you about imprinting, love?"

"You knew?"

"I'll take that as a no. Well, who want to do the honors?"

Jared came forth, which caused me to twitch convulsively. _Werewolf_.

"I'm not a werewolf in the traditional sense – I don't transform with the full moon and I can't pass on my, err…condition, to anyone other than genetically. I know that's not very reassuring, but I am not dangerous. My job is to protect the tribe. I am a protector."

Right. I scoffed.

Thomas shot me a warning glance.

Jared drew in a shaky breath, allowing Kim to wrap her small arms around him, "There is also…imprinting. Imprinting is finding your true love, the other half of you. When we imprint, gravity moves, and she becomes the single most important thing in our lives. She becomes our sun. Mrs. Roue-"

"EMMA, JARED! E-M-M-A! IS IT REALLY THAT HARD?!" I cracked, slamming my fist on the armrest.

All three people in the room stared at me. Jared positively frightened, Thomas attempting to hide a quickly advancing grin, and Kim on the verge of tears.

Jared exhaled, "Emma."

"Finally," I muttered sarcastically.

"I imprinted on Kim."

I looked up at him, my expression betraying no emotion.

Jared smiled down at my little girl in the protective circle of his arms, "Kim is my life. No matter what path she decides to take, I will always be there for her. I would die if it would make her happy."

First, my face remained utterly blank. Illegible.

Then, a slow smile – no, more like a grin – curved my lips and crinkled my eyes.

Oh yeah.

* * *

_Emma was fun to write; she's quite the character – is she not? I sort of imagined her as a spy, so this worked out quite nicely :grins: I felt like I just needed a little closure with Emma and Thomas, being as they were a large component of the story. _

_To exit this page, merely press the blue Go button at the lower left of the screen :whistles innocently: As an incentive to review, I will be giving out a free delicious hug from the werewolf of your choice! Don't miss out! ;)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	16. Epilogue: TAatS

**Epilogue**  
The Actor and the Spectator

* * *

I juggled with the mountains of blankets and the occasional shirt or cup all piled high in my arms. Because of the likely disastrous consequences of taking the stairs I decided to jump over the banister to the first floor. This coincidentally happened to be one of Kim's biggest pet peeves.

Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think I would imprint on Kim Roue.

My foot bumped against something solid on the floor and I sighed as I added it to the growing pile.

To say the truth, I had never really considered imprinting period. I was the second of the pack to do so, and it was not thought of as common place at all at that time. Sam and Emily seemed to be one case in a million and I was happy with it being that way. It was all fun and games, to gag and grimace with all of the guys when Emily and Sam would have one of their moments.

Needless to say, I was more than surprised when I waltzed into art class one day to find my entire center of gravity had shifted in one pull of the rug under my feet.

And to a girl who drew our names inside little pink hearts.

No, it was not what I had been expecting at all.

I reached the laundry room and proceed to unceremoniously dump everything onto the washing machine.

The look on Sam's face when I told him I imprinted had been priceless. However, the situation did become especially embarrassing when I tried everything in my arsenal to get out of phasing. I really didn't want everyone else to know; I wasn't exactly dying to be on the receiving end of their lovey-dovey jokes so often directed at Sam and Emily. Of course, just as my luck would have it, imprinting on Kim was the least to my worries that week. The two rogue vampires we had spotted had been an important priority.

A porcelain cup shattered into pieces in my strong grip. I hastily made to collect the pieces.

When Kim had admitted to being outside that night at the edge of the woods and catching the overly sweet scent of a vampire it had taken everything in me not to phase right then and there. It was just like Kim. She would later sheepishly explain to me that she had been pulled by gravity towards the woods, to hear me howling.

Disposing of the cup, I chuckled quietly to myself. Same old Kim. I continued to sort through my pile of junk, grinning when I came across a chocolate chip cookie, which I plucked happily into my mouth.

"Jared?"

I turned around to see Kim leaning against the frame of the door, one hand, as always, resting on the large swell of her stomach. It didn't take me more than half a second to wrap my arms around her and bring her towards me.

"Yes, love?"

"I was wondering," she mused playing with the sleeve of my shirt, "What do you think of the name Liv for a girl?"

I inhaled her lily flower scent, closing my eyes contently as I rested my chin on the top of her head, "If you like it, great, but I still think it's going to be a boy."

"Oh. Really? And why is that?" she raised an eyebrow commandingly.

I kissed her solidly on her supple lips, "I have a hunch, Mrs. Thail. And I always trust my instinct."

She laughed out loud, "You and your instinct, Jared," she frowned suddenly when she saw I was munching on something, "Jared, what is that in your mouth? Are you eating something you picked off the floor? Jared! How many times-"

Kim was my everything. My sun, my moon, my sky, my stars, my ocean, my earth. She was the air I breathed, the water I drank, the food ate.

And as I leaned down to kiss the swell of her stomach, I couldn't help but think of how I must be the single happiest man on earth.

* * *

_Well, my lovely and beautiful reviewers, that's wrap! I'm done with Jared and Kim, the high school sweethearts of the pack. I have loads of more stories I want to write in this series :jumps excitedly: Embry's up next to the chopping block! _

_Make sure to let me know what you though of this epilogue, and maybe, just for kicks, tell me whether or not _you_ would trust Jared's instincts. :winks:_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	17. Interlude I

**The Newtonian Laws of Gravity**

_Imprinting. "It's so hard to describe. It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like gravity moves. When you see her suddenly it's not the earth holding you there anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her." (p. 176)_

* * *

INTERLUDE

So ends The Actor and the Spectator. With a little sweet vision from the man of the moment, and his perspectives on the one he was meant to be with. Ah love; it's a wonderful thing, is it not?

We are trudging right along, taking down all these single werewolf men. Now we're going to have an Embry story. He's quite the character, and to tell the truth, he really has grown on me, so let's explore him, shall we? This particular story is going to be titled: _The Fast and the Furious_! The idea for the title of this particular short story comes, obviously, from the street car racing movie of the same name. I don't claim any rights what so ever.

Hold on, ladies and gents, because we're about to do a complete 180 degree turn here. Whereas in the last story we had Kim, who already loved Jared and was a very good girl, we are now going to venture into something, shall we say, a little darker.

On that note, I would like to issue a warning: _The Fast and Furious will have swearing. If that offends you in any way, please let me know and I will PM you a version free of all swearing. _

Alright! Well, now that out of the way, let's get to it! Thanks to all you wonderful people that stuck through _The Actor and the Spectator_ and dropped off all those wonderful reviews. You really are the driving force behind all these fast updates and basically the entire story. A lot of you gave me really good ideas and suggestions that I tried hard to incorporate into the chapters. Now we're onto a new adventure, fruitloops!

* * *

SURVEY

So, I was curious, what can I say? In a review for this interlude, let me know whose team are you on…

a) Team Edward, the Adonis of the marble skin?  
b) Team Jacob, the bronze sun-god?  
c) Or…are you one of those takes no account of territorial disputes between mythological creatures and just has both, the fire and the ice?

Tsk. Greedy children. ;)

* * *

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	18. The Fast and the Furious 1

**Series:** The Newtonian Laws of Gravity**  
Title:** The Fast and the Furious**  
Rating:** T**  
Characters:** Embry/OC**  
Song: **_Dani California_ – Red Hot Chili Peppers**  
Disclaimer:** _Twilight_ belongs exclusively to Ms. Meyer; I only borrow her characters for my own amusement. The only Edward I own is a stuffed plushy.

* * *

"_**S**__he's a lover, baby, and a fighter._

_Shoulda seen it coming when it got a little brighter._

_She's a runner, rebel and a stunner,__On her merry way sayin; baby whatcha gonna._

_Lookin' down the barrel of a hot metal 45.  
Just another way to survive__**."**_

* * *

I

My gum cracked loudly, obnoxiously.

So loud, in fact, it attracted the attention of a tiny little girl dressed in frilly pink walking down the street with her mother. Her naïve eyes widened at the sight of me and scared her so she clutched desperately at her mother's skirt.

My perfect lips spread into an uncharacteristic smirk and a dark chuckle escaped me.

The tyke's mother cast me an affronted look, huffing loudly about delinquents, gangs, punks and troublemakers.

I grinned at her sarcastically from my spot on the wall and casually gave her that finger.

"Well I never!" the mother of the innocent flared, adjusting her ridiculous fur coat around her before she disappeared around the bend.

I threw my head back and laughed heartily, my tall lithe body shaking.

So typical. So predictable.

Frilly brat girl had been the third innocent child I had scared witless by merely leaning against the wall of some 7-Eleven on Seattle's Main Street. I tossed my mane of long, straight blonde hair over my shoulder and blared Led Zeppelin through my large earphones.

Not that I was surprised - I did look the part of the throat-cutting punk.

My jeans were baggy over my extremely thin frame and covered in holes of all sizes. Black combat boots were laced up my legs, and my white Strokes t-shirt was falling off my shoulder to reveal the strap of my bright green tank top. The tattoo on the back of my exposed shoulder didn't help either.

A couple scurried by, giving me frightened and offended looks.

I ignored them and closed my eyes, tapping my foot to the drum beat in my earphones.

The angry slam of a door caught my attention. I peered, uninterested, through one eye and a challenging smile settled on my lips.

"I see him," I spoke into my cell phone.

The man was overweight and balding, the latter of which he was trying to hide under a tattered baseball cap. Other than that he had an almost squirrel-like disposition, and was obviously very anxious to get as far away from his current location as humanly possible.

Easily slipping my black cell into one of the many pockets of my ripped jeans, I meandered across the busy street. The car whizzing past me glittered orange in the fading sunset. My boots were silent on the worn asphalt, contrary to the incessant racket played through my earphones, which were now cradled around my neck. When I got to the man he had his back to me, exposing a very greasy black t-shirt with a slightly suggestive logo. The man was swearing loudly as he fumbled around with his keys.

"Going somewhere?" I cracked my gum loudly.

The heavy-set man let out a startled and strangled cry of terror as he swirled around, dropping his keys in the process.

"NO! N-no! Nowhere!" he rasped, his bleary eyes bloodshot with alcohol as they came to rest on me.

"Charlie!" the rotund man exclaimed. "Thank God!"

I said nothing and cracked my gum once more, enjoying how the sharp noise made him jump and twitch convulsively.

The disgusting man kept rambling, wringing his hands together, "-I was hoping they would send you. Not Jason. Oh Charlie! Please, I'll do anything, you must understand. Complete accident, that's what it was. Never meant it to turn out this way. I have the highest of respects…Just not Jason, please not Jason-"

"Enough."

He was struck dumb, panting heavily as he continued to shot me pleading glances.

"Your brother promised us three hundred grand," I said idly, looking over my nails.

The balding man whined like a helpless child.

"He said he would have it ready last week."

"Please! I promise-"

I silenced him with one frigid glance, "You know, Jason wanted to come so bad."

I thought the man would faint given the way he swayed dangerously on spot.

"But we are forgiving. Mistakes happen," I amended.

He looked up hopefully.

"Have it by tomorrow," I finished.

The obese man opened his mouth, looking ready to protest. But before he released any sound, his beady eyes caught the simple manner in which I raised one eyebrow. He fell at my feet, his T-shirt drenched in sweat. At the same instant, a sleek midnight blue Camaro pulled up, screeching, right behind me.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" the man spewed.

I awarded him a last, revolted, look, before sliding through the open door of the purring car.

"You scared the shit outta 'im, Charlie," the handsome driver whooped.

I slammed the door, "Language, Derek."

Derek rolled his eyes at my words and instead leaned over, cracking his jaw, "Whatcha doin' tonight, honey? You sure you're not up to dinner for two?"

I almost laughed, "Just drive."

"Your wish is my command, princess," he did laugh, gunning the engine expertly.

The ride through the darkening streets of Seattle was not long, mostly due to the fact that the sleek car had a 400 hp LS2 V8 engine; 120 mph was nothing.

And Derek was not of the most conservative opinion on speed limits.

He talked animatedly about nothing and everything, though mostly about his new project – a Bugatti. I stared out the tinted window, my empty eyes absorbing nothing that flew by.

Finally, we reached the corner of East and 7th. I smoothly opened the door.

"He wants to see you tomorrow," Derek commented casually.

I froze three paces from the car and closed my eyes.

"Don't be late."

The Camaro drove away, racing into the falling darkness. I stared after it, hands in pockets, until I couldn't even hear the deafening din of the powerful engine.

Tomorrow.

I let out a pained sigh and cast a searching look around me.

No one in sight. Good.

I quickly took out a small medical bottle from the deep pockets of my jeans, eagerly shoving the small orange pill down my throat. The sensation spread through me almost instantly, the calm feeling of the drug satisfying the ache inside me.

The steps were familiar to me. Eight, almost nine, blocks in total. One to the right. Three to the left. Then under the park bridge and out the East Gate. Two straight. One to the left. One to the right. A simple pin to open the street door. Four flights of stairs and finally the door to the small apartment.

The precautions were necessary. The last thing I wanted was for _them_ to find out about Lucy.

I closed the apartment door quietly behind me and tiptoed my way towards the kitchen, making sure to turn off the loud music that played through my earphones.

The scene was so out-of-place in my life that I wondered for a brief minute how I had managed to hide such a blatant oddity. Lucy was chatting avidly, her small hands waving to and fro to illustrate her point. Across from her Rose, a kind faced aging Makah woman, chuckled, her crinkled eyes bright. I leaned against the door frame and watched fondly as Rose pushed a sandwich into the girl's outstretched hands.

I cleared my throat, attracting their attention.

"Charlotte!" the little girl sitting at the table squealed.

She didn't waste anytime jumping off her high chair and sprinting full speed into my open arms, hugging me with surprising force for a five year old. For the first time all day I smiled a genuine smile and dotingly caressed her matching long blonde hair.

"How have you been, angel?" I asked, getting up.

Her tiny hands grasped mine and lead me towards the table, "Rose and I went to the zoo today! The zoo! We saw _real_ pandas! And monkeys, tigers and," Lucy chocked on her overflow of words as she tried to speak faster than her mouth would allow, "and wolves! Charlotte, _real wolves_! Like Balto! One licked me!"

As if to prove her point, Lucy dropped my hand and ran off to fetch her stuffed wolf. I settled myself at the small rickety table, content to wait.

"How was your day, Charlotte?" the old Makah woman asked kindly.

A darkness passed over my features, lasting only a second before it vanished.

My day.

I did not want to think about my day. My day was separate from my night. At day, I was as one dead. At night, I lived.

At night, I had Lucy.

I chose to ignore the question, "It's been a long time since Lucy went to the zoo."

Rose nodded, "She's the one who suggested it – she told me Balto wanted to go see other wolves."

"See? See!" Lucy ran back into the small room, clutching a dark colored worn stuffed wolf, "Balto _told_ me the wolves _liked_ me. They did! One licked me! It _kissed_ me!"

I raised and eyebrow and laughed, "So you liked the zoo?"

Lucy made an impatient grimace, shifting on her feet, "I _loved_ the zoo. Jeez."

Rose chuckled and lifted herself heavily from her chair, "Well, dearest, I must be going off to bed. Tomorrow is another big day!"

I checked the clock on the wall – 8:45.

"Rose is right," I got up, pulling Lucy towards me, "It's getting late. Off to bed with you, angel, I'll be right there to kiss you goodnight."

As Lucy yawned and ran off to her bedroom, I turned to the gentle Makah woman who was draping on her coat.

"I could never thank you enough for what you do for me and Lucy," I spoke softly.

Rose smiled, "It's a pleasure, more than an old woman like me could hope for. I've always wanted grandchildren, and since my own children have failed to give me any, I have Lucy."

My expression was one of gratitude as I opened the creaky door and let her out into the homely landing.

"Charlotte!" came Lucy's insistent voice.

I sighed, cast one last look into the now abandoned landing and closed the door, making sure to secure all five assorted locks I had fixed to it.

The apartment was small, seemingly even more so as I quietly turned off all the lights. The kitchen was unanimous with the makeshift living room. I smiled slightly as I turned off the TV, which was set, as always, on the discovery channel.

"Charlotte!"

For all the quaintness of our apartment – the tiny bathroom, the two attached bedrooms and the cramped closet, the place was impeccably clean and radiated of comfort. I couldn't think of a better home in which to raise a child.

"Chaaarrllooottte!"

Lucy looked up at me indignantly from her pillow, "I've called you five times!"

I sat myself down on her tiny bed, wrapping the blankets more securely around her small frame, "Five times? Really? That's better than yesterday, isn't it? Didn't you have to call me nine times yesterday? Dear me, what an impatient child you are."

Lucy giggled, her blue eyes bright as she cuddled Balto closer, "Nine times! Charlotte, you are getting better!"

I grinned and kissed her loudly on the nose, "Goodnight, Lucy."

"Balto wants a kiss too!"

I rolled my eyes but obliged her, kissing the stuffed wolf soundly, "Goodnight, Balto."

Half way to the door, Lucy called out hesitantly, "Charlotte?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Bobby said that you only come at night because you killed someone."

I froze, my body stiffening imperceptibly.

"I told him that isn't true. You work at a com-compenny," she struggled with the word, "That's why you only come at night. Right?"

I only come at night so you can walk outside during the day.

But I didn't say that, I couldn't bring myself to utter the words.

My voice was soft, "Yes, you're right. You are always right."

Lucy smiled and closed her eyes, satisfied with my answer.

I gazed at her with heavy eyes, wanting to cry, wanting to throw it all away.

But I couldn't.

No matter what I do, I am who I am and nothing will change that.

All I can do is save Lucy.

The lights turned off, plunging everything into darkness.

"Goodnight, angel. I love you."

* * *

_There you have it. Charlie, aka- Charlotte. What do you make of her? :grins: Do let me know what you think – please review, I promise I will respond! Until next time, lovelies!  
_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	19. The Fast and the Furious 2

**Chapter 2  
**The Fast and the Furious

* * *

My blue eyes, normally diligently kept emotionless, flashed with unadulterated fury.

How _dare_ he.

I made quick work of the flimsy iron door before me and allowed it to slam noisily. The echo rebounded in the hollow, downtrodden garage, catching inside the thin aluminum roof.

Jason was the first of the three men to look up, a nearly imperceptible smirk twisting upon his thin lips. His expression betrayed him, and I felt a cry of anguish deep inside me.

_Murderer._

"Charlie. You are late," a lazy voice crawled, lilting lightly with a slight accent.

I immediately sought the source of the voice and offered a respectful nod to the Japanese man lounging tiredly in a great leather chair behind his mahogany desk. My anger evaporated immediately, my more prominent survival instincts overtaking my body.

"My apologies, Mr. Makoto," I spoke clearly.

Makoto gave no sign that he heard me, instead turning to the third man, "Leave us."

The nervous looking teenager gave a rasp noise of assent and fled, his quick footfalls amplified in the dark room.

The Japanese man idly pulled a lighter from his crisp white suit. He observed it thoughtfully for a few moments, tapping his other hand lightly on the polished surface of the desk. For a second, it seemed he was going to light it, but the flame never jumped up from the small device.

"Charlie, you read the headlines."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I guarded my expression.

Jason's smirk spread into a frightening grin, his white teeth flashing sickly in the thin air.

This time, Makoto did allow the lighter to flare to life, "You failed."

I refused to fall into his trap, "No. I did not fail."

For the first time, the middle-aged Japanese man looked up at me, surprised and intrigued.

"I did not fail. Raskovielsky was to give me the three hundred grand today."

"You failed, Charlie. I was to have the money a week ago."

I kept my face expressionless, my blue eyes blank. I did not show fear nor apprehension. Instead, I almost smiled, "You still don't have the three hundred grand, and now you will never get it. Raskovielsky is no use to us dead."

The unnatural grin was wiped from Jason's predatory features, turning into an angry scowl as he thrust himself forward, growling angrily, "Bitch. Why do we need three hundred grand? Raskovielsky didn't have the money. That piece of shit slighted the respect he owned us. He was a lesson, not a fucking bank!"

My voice was calm, my expression indifferent, "We could use three hundred grand after the Adams fiasco."

Makoto watched the exchange, an almost childish expression of glee on his normally harsh visage.

"Adams was a fucking idiot! That bastard would have blown it all to pieces - he was _asking_ to get shot," Jason violently grabbed my wrist, his strong grip acutely painful.

I tried not to wince as I responded with a haughty look of superiority, "Adams was essential. But you apparently can't heed orders and do the job you are assigned to do."

Jason's hawk eyes pierced through me with an inhuman anger, his face inches from mine, "Adams wasn't the only one asking for a permanent lead tattoo."

"Enough."

We both fell silent at Makoto's bored yet firm command. Jason's hand left my wrist and I inwardly acknowledged that his fingers would have left bruises on my skin.

With a languid flick of his arm, the Japanese man stamped today's newspaper on the table, "Raskovielsky had many friends. And the police will investigate."

"I will find the witnesses and come to a negotiation with the police," I responded automatically.

"Leave the friends to me," Jason stated with a dark chuckle, patting the back of his pants.

I shivered almost involuntarily.

Makoto didn't have to nod. He didn't even have to look at us. The Japanese man adjusted the newspaper on his desk and swiveled his leather chair around, turning on the baseball game.

"Good."

Jason was gone swiftly, his steps completely silent. I waited for a few moments, allowing time for my dangerous companion to vanish. The last thing I wanted was an encounter with him in the dark alleys outside. Then I left, just as quietly, tossing my straight blond hair over my shoulder.

The cold black capitals on the paper burned in my mind: _Russian Tycoon Dmitri Raskovielsky Found Shot Dead in his Apartment_.

- - -

I had done it before, countless times.

For Adams, for the scheming hacker, for the unfortunate messenger with blue eyes. I spent my life cleaning the messes Jason left behind him in a trail of bloody crumbs.

The obnoxious dim of the busy traffic faded as I silently worked my way further down the darkly lit alley. The smell of deterioration and sewage was prevalent, a nauseous backdrop to the litter I had to carefully sidestep. There was a man, hidden in the shadows, smoke escaping from his nose as he took a long drag at his cigarette. He cast me an interested gaze, shamelessly allowing his eyes to undress my body. My answer was a well-practiced frigid glare.

But it wasn't my warning look which sent him scurrying off through a nearby door – it was the tattoo, prevalent on my exposed back.

I didn't meet anyone else. The sun was high up in the sky, and the alleys were pungent with visible filth. I doubted anyone would willingly submit themselves to this dark world when the streets were bathing with sunlight.

The alley finally gave way to a set of rickety stairs, which I climbed cautiously, trying at all cost to keep my hands from grazing the rust covered side bars. There was only one door at the top of the black deteriorating stairs, a forbidding looking door equipped with what looked like three separate locks.

I wasted no time in knocking sharply.

It took him approximately four minutes and thirty-two seconds to get to the door. Four minutes and thirty-seconds of desperate scuffling, lightly veiled threats, and not-so-lightly-veiled swearing. The door was wretched open, a little imprudently if you asked me, to reveal a very disheveled and irate Derek. He was about to start on what would have been a noteworthy list of profanity when his brown eyes adjusted to the sparse light and identified me.

"Oh. Charlie. It's you," he breathed out, the anger fading fast to give way to exhaustion.

"Derek. It's Raskovielsky," I spoke evenly, my eyes never straying from his face.

The young man frowned, passing a hand over his weary face, "Damn."

I didn't respond.

After a few moments, Derek let out a sigh and cast me an apologetic glance, "Back to work then, isn't? Right. Let me sort out the current resident of my bedroom and I'll be right with you."

I chuckled lightly to myself and strode into his apartment, waiting patiently near the door for Derek to come back.

"What? B-But, I though you loved me!" the familiar cry burst from one of the rooms.

I grinned slyly to myself. Derek was well-known for his female company, and even more well-known for how tragically they all took their leave the morning after.

This girl was more subdued than the girl last week; that curvaceous blonde had screeched enough to set off the entire city when her time had come to pack up and leave. I watched, unbidden, from my resting place near the door as Derek shooed the brunette out of his chamber – the girl clad only in a skimpy outfit which did little to hide anything. Her watery sobs were halted abruptly when she caught sight of me. The girl stopped short.

"Who is that?" she hissed dangerously, glaring at me darkly.

I cast her a look of disdain and punctuated it with a sarcastic smile, "Not trash like you, of that you can be sure."

The girl let her mouth fall open in indignation. She spluttered, trying to find the right words to express her mounting anger. Unfortunately, she never really did get to say anything. Derek saw her momentary lapse and proceeded to throw her out onto the landing. By the time she realized what had happened, the door was already slammed shut in her face.

Derek let out a frustrated mumble, "Those girls. One night and they think I'm going to propose."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "I would have thought you would be happy at their undying devotion. Why don't you become a Mormon? It would suit you."

Derek let out a chuckle as he strode over to me, wrapping one arm around my slim shoulders, "But I only have eyes for you, Princess."

"Save it for your whores, Derek. I'm here about Raskovielsky."

I was back to business. My posture was as casual as ever, but my soul had faded away, hidden behind my frigid unseeing eyes, the uncompassionate thin line of my lips.

Derek took it in stride, "That poor bastard."

I fixed my eyes on the peeling brown wallpaper, "I take it you read the headlines."

A slight nod was all the confirmation I needed. Derek let out a heavy sigh, "It was Jason, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I need to access the files."

His office was chaotic at best. It was small, dark and cramped. The sun barely made it through the closed blinds and the clatter dispersed all over the desk overwhelmed the three working computers. Derek ran his hands over the desk, upsetting an empty mug and dispersing a half-eaten apple and quite a few important looking papers onto the littered carpet. He mumbled to himself darkly as he took the sleek mouse, which was nestled under a blanket of Klondike wrappers, and jostled the computers to life. The screen jumped to life, filling the room with an eerie blue glow. The other two blinked quickly behind it. The robotic squeals of the hard drive began, accompanied by the click of the mouse and the chatter of the keyboard.

"Are we going to need bank accounts?" Derek piped up, his forehead creased.

"No. Raskovielsky has friends. They covered his tracks."

An irritated sigh, "Damn Russians."

I tossed my long blonde hair over my shoulder, pushing it away from my eyes as I tried to decipher the fast flashing screens. Derek whistled a light tune as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

It was amazing how much sheer technology genius Derek portrayed. It was amazing that for such raw talent he had ended up with Mr. Makoto, with Jason.

With me.

"The record is barren," Derek began, startling me into awareness, "They hardly have any info on this guy…I guess its not surprising…Woah! Look at all these allegations against him: fraudulent investments, tax evasion, scam, war funding…quite a list for such an ugly little man…None were every actually taken against him…"

My voice was cold, "Focus, Derek."

The handsome young man started in his seat, as if he had forgotten I was there, "Oh! Right. Police files on the murder. That's what you want, right?"

I nodded, an imperceptible motion of my head, "Bring up the entire case. I want witnesses, suspects and the name of the team in charge. Get me the names of anyone who is even remotely associated with the death."

Derek cast me sarcastic smile, "Should I round up all of those unfortunate enough to have read the headlines this morning? Or should we grant them clemency?"

My expression didn't even twitch. I turned my face to his slowly, my eyes cold and my lips in a stern line.

He went back to typing. He clicked twice and the screen went black. Code sprung up, a jarring green reminiscent of The Matrix. It typed itself down the display, gaining momentum.

Derek laughed, "I love government firewalls."

With a few choice keys, he was in.

I considered my job easy. I was the negotiator. The mess cleaner. I looked up the investigation team and offered them a new incentive – they usually went cheap. I found a suspect, an enemy, and arranged enough evidence to put them away. I talked to witnesses, and persuaded them, nicely, to turn their Good Samaritan intentions elsewhere.

It was a quick and easy job. No one asked questions.

I never would have dreamed that Raskovielsky would prove any different.

Derek swore loudly, "Fucking citizens and their fucking good deeds. I hate decent people."

Because right there, in the suspect file was my unmistakable picture. A video of me, hanging imperiously over Raskovielsky the day before the murder.

The violent murder of the oil tycoon had made headlines in Seattle, New York, Moscow and St. Petersburg.

And I was their prime suspect, with a video to prove my domineering nature the day before the murder. A video which, though it didn't capture my words, caught Raskovielsky's terrified and pleading glances.

The small room echoed with my word, the eerie, almost taunting light of the monitor casting me in shadows.

"Fuck."

* * *

_Well, things are certainly starting to spice up for our suave Charlie. Now, not only does she have to deal with the fact that she's on Jason's, the gang hitman, black list, but she's also most wanted for both the police and Russian mafia associated with Raskovielsky. And now people are going to start to look at where she lives and such. Hm…yes, the plot is deepening. :grins: _

_So! Let me know what you think is in store for our dearest Charlotte! If you review, I'll give you a cookie! :)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	20. The Fast and the Furious 3

**Chapter 3**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

Makoto couldn't know.

He wasn't one for risks. And my current position as suspect of a major crime was a risk. A risk which could endanger his entire enterprise. A risk Makoto wasn't willing to take.

No. If Makoto found out, he would have Jason finish me with a quick gun shot.

I left Derek's place. There wasn't much he could do – he could delete the file they had of me, but only electronically. The physical evidence, and the video, would remain, safe, at the local police station. He promised he wouldn't tell Makoto or Jason. But I know that if they asked him, he would have no other choice. In our world, if we dared to stand together, we were destroyed. It was survival of the fittest, every man for themselves.

I walked down Main Street. The sun was punishing, with no clouds in the horizon to shade its midday glory. It rained down on the busy streets, falling directly from the sky so that not even the imposing skyscrapers could shield it. The streets were crowded with people. Men and women in business suits streaked past me, jabbering anxiously into their autonomous headsets. Children clang to their mothers, whining about the heat. Teenagers laughed at the corners with their friends.

A girl, no older than me, appraised me behind her rectangular glasses. I caught the expression that lighted in her eyes. She was jealous. She was jealous of my aesthetic perfection – long, straight blonde hair, blue eyes and tall lithe body. She, a girl walking down the street without a care in the world, was jealous of me.

And all I wanted to do was take her by the shoulders and shake her right, left, up, down and around. Shake her until she saw that my beauty was nothing but the most cruel of paradoxes. Shake her until she saw that inside me there was nothing beautiful at all, only a pitiful, rotting, dark creature. It was I, I who envied her with the deepest core of my being.

My hands shaking, I reached into my pocket and clumsily unscrewed the small medical bottle. I shook the pills around, tumbling them into my hand. Two should be enough. I quickly downed them, dry. My eyes closed as my body absorbed the drug. A hum filled me, and I felt the shaking in my hands cease.

To all the pedestrians, I was just another young woman, stalking down the sidewalk in the sun. Yes, my attire suggested I wasn't all that respectable. And yes, my expression was frustratingly arrogant. But essentially I was just another young woman, going on with her life. Not one of them could understand that I would never belong to their carefree world.

I stopped walking, allowing my bored eyes to glance over the flashing red light.

Then, caught in my darkening thoughts, I heard his voice for the first time.

His voice was deep, a rough and rich baritone that twanged with playfulness.

"Did it hurt?"

I froze. My blue eyes widened with fear. My first immediate thought was that I was caught. Jason had found me. Makoto knew. I swirled around, my heart thumping noisily.

"What?" I whispered dangerously.

He was tall, enormously so, but shorter than his long haired friend. For all his almost inhumanly good-looks, it was his eyes that caught me. They were a deceptively plain dark brown, the kind you would find just about anywhere. But there was something about them, something I could not name, that drew me out.

"Did it hurt when you fell out of heaven?" the boy restated smoothly, a smirk on his handsome features.

His companion rolled his eyes. Inwardly, I sighed with relief, knowing that I was safe. I allowed a sneer to take over my countenance as I leaned into this strange boy.

"About as much as it hurt when you were spit out of hell," I finished with a sickly sweet smile.

The light turned green. Without so much as a backward glance, I strode across the zebra stripes of the crosswalk, smiling lightly to myself.

A smile, which quickly turned into a frown when a voice exploded behind me.

"Hey! Wait! WAIT!"

I turned around slowly, and let out a bored sigh. The boy was dashing across the street, apologizing to the various pedestrians he clobbered along the way. I was almost afraid he would not be able to slow down and would end up tackling me over in his eagerness. I shouldn't have worried: he stopped before me with surprising agility for a man of his size.

"Wait," he finished, his voice turning soft at the end as his eyes met mine.

I felt odd, staring into his eyes. My nerve endings tingled, and the frigid grasp that held me seemed to melt ever so slightly. It wasn't a pleasant sensation.

I was about to open my mouth in a sharp retort, but the boy beat me to it.

"What's your name?" he asked, almost reverently.

The sensation I had felt moments before was gone, replaced by confusion and slight fear. Reverently?

I raised an eyebrow, my hands in my pockets, "Who are _you_?"

The boy straightened, an easy grin taking over his boyish features. It was intimidating. I, who was usually taller than most, found myself effectively dwarfed.

"Embry Call," he extended his hand out.

I kept my face expressionless as I passed my eyes from his eager face, to his extended hand. My hands remained in my pockets, and I made no move to remove them. I continued to stare blankly at him, laughing inside at his boy's utter stupidity. This Embry Call really thought he could shake _my_ hand?

An awkward silence grew around us, forcing the boy to take back his hand. He cleared his throat, lifting his other hand to rub the back of his neck.

"Er…well, so…are you from around here?" he attempted again.

I said nothing.

Another awkward moment passed.

"Because, um…well, I'm not from here. Not from Seattle, I mean. I am from Washington," he frowned, mulling over his last words, "Washington State, that is. I'm actually from La Push. That's a Native American Reservation near Forks. Because I'm Native American. It's about…an hour away? Maybe more. But really close…and well…yeah," the boy finished his rambling lamely.

I continued to stare at him, not once even allowing my face to move in any way.

This time, he didn't attempt to remedy the silence. Instead, he contented himself with staring at me, his eyes roaming over my face, and his expression relaxed.

I felt utterly and completely violated. It was as if he could see right through me.

"Is your name Hillary Clinton?" he randomly voiced.

My expression must have changed drastically, because a triumphant grin plastered itself on his mischievous features.

"Just kidding," he laughed, reaching out to rest his hand on my shoulder.

I was quick. In less than a second, I had managed to twist his arm behind his back and place the knife I had in my pocket at his throat.

Embry didn't even squeak.

It was odd. Most men would have been terrified, but Embry Call, he just looked slightly disappointed. He didn't even have the decency to look surprised. It was like he had let me, as if he could have stopped me with unparallel ease. My frustration grew.

My face was inches away from his own, and I knew that he would be able to read the anger in my livid blue eyes.

It was a whispered threat, a low hissing sound next to his hear, "If I ever see you again, I'll be the last thing you'll ever see."

I flew away from him and I didn't look back. Not when his friend called him. Not when I realized that I had dropped my knife. Not even when I heard his voice, raised above all others, a perfect tone:

"I'm going to hold you to that!"

* * *

_Enter Embry Call! Yay! He is now officially in the story. I must say – you're lucky. I was going to make her go to the police station before she ran into him, but I guess I just have a soft spot for our dearest Embry, and I had to have him in sooner. :grins:_

_On another, slightly sad note, I won't be updating tomorrow – senior trip with my peeps! But, I will update later Monday night. That might even be a double update day…it all depends. ;)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	21. The Fast and the Furious 4

**Chapter 4**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

Derek didn't know where I lived. No one did. Which is why, with thirteen urgent voicemails piling up in my cell, I decided to meet with him at the diner two blocks down from his apartment.

"Charlie, it's bad. Real bad. We are so fucked it's not even funny."

My answer was more annoyed than the frightened he was going for, "Language, Derek."

He shut his tired, bloodshot eyes. I noticed his golden hair was more disheveled than usual, and that his normally crisp polo was sporting an impressive pizza stain. Concern rose up inside me, but I effectively squashed it before it hatched.

I idly played with my spoon, "Well? What was so important that it couldn't wait?"

"Have you ever heard Rochester? Jacob Rochester? Yeah. Well he happens to be the most recognized detective in the entire world. He is related to the man who caught Al Capone. And it so happens Rochester was a close family friend, through his wife, of Raskovielsky. Charlie, he's coming here, to investigate you. We are fucked."

I moved my eyes from the spoon to my hands, inspecting my nails. I sighed, and my voice was irate when I answered him, "I can handle Rochester."

Derek threw himself against the back of his seat, an angry growl escaping him as he passed his hand over his face, "You just don't get, do you? I looked you up, Charlie. And you don't exist. There are no files. Nothing. No ID. No pictures. No record of you ever being born. You are invisible."

I raised an eyebrow, "I thought that would be a good thing."

"No. It's not. The fact that there is no information about you makes you even more suspicious. Hell, they probably think you're some sort of fucking CIA agent!" his face grew serious, "They are going to find you, Charlie. It's just a matter of time."

"I can't leave town. You know that," I said quietly, anticipating his next statement.

Derek sighed, leaning forward, "Charlie. Makoto will find out. There is going to be a hell of a lot of people after you. He reads the headlines, you know. I hate to say it, but you're running out of time."

I stared at him. I knew he couldn't tell what I was thinking. I was as responsive as a marble wall. And I didn't want him to know I was thinking. Because branded inside my head, everything I could see was Lucy. Lucy needed me. I was her guardian; I was her source of food and shelter. She was mine; she was everything I had. If anything happened to me, I don't know what would happen to her. And that was an insecurity I couldn't live with. I knew that once I got back, I would have to plan for the worse. Rochester, I might be able to handle, but Makoto was an entirely different story – he didn't have any laws to retrain him.

"Then find time," I fired right back.

"I can only do so much," he warned.

I sighed, "Do what you can. Stall. Mess with their files. Make sure the newspaper doesn't find out about the investigation."

"I can only buy you seven days at most."

"Seven days and seven nights, where have I heard that before?" I mused, chuckling bitterly to myself.

Derek's face darkened, "None of us could help what happened to the Red Butterfly. You know that, Charlie."

In an uncharacteristic moment, I let my cool, unyielding façade slip. My eyes burned and I let out a barely contained hiss of anger, "She was _my mother_."

Derek stared at the table underneath his hands, refusing to make eye contact with me. He gave me a few second to compose myself before he chanced a glance. A wry, albeit sad, smile took over his lips when he saw that I was back to my bored observation of the silverware before me.

"Seven days," I assented dryly.

"I will do my best, but I don't know how long I will be able to keep it a secret. You know how it is," Derek cautioned.

I gave a slight nod.

The waitress decided to show up, holding a steaming mug of coffee and a plate which overflowed with pancakes and syrup. She set them carefully in front of Derek, casting him a flirtatious look from under her heavily mascara covered eyelashes. When Derek chose to completely ignore her, instead fixing his thoughtful gaze on me, the curvy red head shot me a jealous and frustrated glare. I fought the urge to smile cheekily in her direction. Derek didn't even notice when she slipped her number underneath his plate.

"Charlie," he started, hesitantly, "I have to ask – why is there nothing about you? How can you be so invisible? I've know you for at least eight years and I don't even know your last name. I don't know where you live!"

"And you never will," I passed my frigid eyes over him.

Derek shook his head, "But Charlie, there isn't even any proof of your birth! In the virtual world, you don't exist! Even _I_ exist, for all of my efforts to be invisible like you."

A silence fell over us. The diner was quiet, only a few shady costumers left at these outrageous hours of the night. Derek heartily dug into his pancakes, using the napkin with the girl's number to wipe of his sticky fingers.

I laughed, "I thought you would appreciate someone to warm your bed tonight, lothario."

He smirked at me playfully, "Tonight I'm going to work full time on you, Princess."

I scoffed, passing over his flirtatious inclinations as per usual. My cell phone rung in my pocket. I would have ignored it, but I couldn't afford that luxury. I stood up, and made to leave.

"Rochester will find you. He has solved every case he has ever been assigned," Derek voiced.

I turned to him, "There is always a first time."

Derek glanced at me in wonder, "How can you be so calm, Charlie?"

My face displayed no emotion, "It's my job."

The curvy red-head almost knocked me over as she scampered over to Derek's, now free, table. I rolled my eyes, taking out my cell phone as I tossed a few pennies into the jar by the door. The small bell at the door made a frustratingly happy noise as I swung open the door of the diner and step out into the pouring rain. I quickly flipped up the hood of my black jacket, curling my nose in disgust at the monotone climate of Washington State. I hated the rain. The cell phone rang more insistently in my hand. Sighing, I flipped the black device open, bracing myself for Jason's harsh voice.

"Charlie," I spoke, beginning my way down the dark streets.

"Charlie? That's you name? Wow. I like it!"

I almost dropped the phone in completely shock. And I never, ever, am surprised. My job is to be informed, prepared for anything. But even though I had only met him once, there was no mistaking the rich voice on the other side of the line. It was that boy. Embry Call.

He was still jabbering on about my name when I sliced across his words, cold as ice, "How did you get this number?"

He was smiling, I could tell, "A magician never reveals his secrets, Charlie."

My voice was deadly, "_How did you get this number_?"

"So, tell me, what are you doing, Charlie?" he began, mischievously.

"Don't call me Charlie!" I snapped angrily.

A pause, "It's your name, isn't it?"

I refused to answer him, pressing the phone closer to my ear, my knuckles turning white, "This is an unlisted number. _How did you get this number_?"

A light chuckle, "I have a friend who is good with computers."

"I do too, and unless you want him to make your life a living hell, I suggest you forget this number, my name and any contact we ever had."

I was going to hang up, when his voice piped up, happy as ever, "I don't give up that easily, Miss Charlotte."

My heart stopped in my chest.

"How do you know that?" my voice was a hoarse whisper, nothing more than a breath of fear.

A sizzling sound came over the phone and I imagined he was cooking, "Know what? That your name is Charlotte? Come on, just how thick do you think I am? You're a girl, and your nickname is Charlie. Unless you had odd parents that named you with a distinctly male name, I'm willing to bet that your name is Charlotte."

"Who are you?" I almost shouted into the phone.

His voice was slow, as if he were explaining something to a two-year old, "Embry Call. I live on the La Push Indian Reservation near Forks."

I felt my hands shake, "Who the _hell_ are you?"

"I'm someone who's very interested in you," came his light answer.

I barely caught my phone in time before it hit the floor. The faraway sound of traffic was muted in my ears, and all I could do was stare into the dirty blackness of the night streets, highlighted by the sickly yellow glow of the lampposts. There was no one to see me. I was alone, and I felt the cold wetness of the ever pouring rain sweep into my skin.

His voice echoed in my head: _someone who's very interested in you._

Oh god.

The clock was ticking.

* * *

_And the plot thickens. Even more than before :grins: So, tell me. There is a lot of information in this chapter; it's a big set up point for the next couple of chapters. Are there any questions out there? Anyone confused? Just let me know. I am really proud of how this came out, but I may have skimmed over something that needed more detail. So. Drop me a little review - you know I love to hear from you!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	22. The Fast and the Furious 5

**Chapter 5**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

I ran back to the diner. I hardly even paused to think about it. I just ran. I needed answers, and I was going to get them. All of my clothes were drenched through with rain, clinging uncomfortably to my body. In fact, I was very near to coming down with hypothermia. My hands shook, and even my iron will couldn't contain the tremors that ran up and down my back. I needed at least three pills, of that I was sure. One word kept running repeatedly through my head: Lucy. I had to save Lucy.

The door slammed open, tingling obnoxiously in my wake.

"Charlie?" Derek was surprised to see me back.

The waitress, who had taken up residence in the chair I had occupied before scowled uglily.

"I need information on a boy named Embry Call," I spoke hastily, struggling to calm myself.

Derek flew to his feet, quickly coming to stand beside me. His eyes shone with concern, and his arm hesitated to wrap itself around my shoulders, "Charlie? Are you okay?"

I looked up at him, hating the way my eyes shouted my fear, "I need information on a boy named Embry Call."

"Come on, let's go," Derek decided to wrap his arms around my shoulders, holding me up against him. I wanted nothing more than to throw his hands away, to push him as far away from me as possible. Charlie never showed weakness. Charlie never showed any emotions. Charlie faced life with frigid indifference.

Derek tossed enough money to cover the bill, all the while looking over me worriedly. Without as much as a second glance, he lead me out of the downtrodden diner and out into the cold spray of the rain. The walk to his apartment was quiet. I was drowning in the panic that had overtaken me. Embry Call knew my real name. Embry Call was interested in me. Embry Call was coming after me. And every time, one inevitable conclusion seared through my mind, blinding me: Lucy was in danger.

"Sit down, Charlie," Derek ordered calmly, setting me down on the chair near his messy workstation.

I obeyed quietly, trying to stop my hands from their ridiculous shaking. Lucy was in danger.

Derek paused, warily scrutinizing me for any signs of anything he should worry about. I made me furious that he would have to treat me this way. I made me furious that one call from a stranger would put me into such a state.

"His name is Embry Call," I snapped bitterly.

Taking the hit, Derek plopped down into his seat, jostling the monitors awake and unburying his keyboard and mouse from the hectic mess of litter that was strewn across the desk. The darkness of the room seemed blacker with the glow of the computers. My eyes were glued on the screen.

"Embry Call," Derek enunciated slowly, thoughtfully, "_Embry Call_."

He typed the name in.

We both looked up at the screen. Beep. Nothing.

Derek raised an eyebrow and mumbled to himself, "Embree Cul?"

He typed in the new name, taking away a few restrictions off his program that might inhibit the search.

Nothing.

Derek swore lightly under his breath and rolled up his sleeves. I pushed myself further into my chair, dread beginning to creep into every pore of my body. Lucy was in danger.

Two hours later, we had yet to find anything. No matter how many spellings we tried, how many pronunciations we spoke into the microphone, nothing, not a single file, came up. He wasn't registered as a resident of Forks, La Push or any surrounding communities. He wasn't didn't have a birth certificate. He wasn't registered in the file of Native Americans. We looked through pictures of almost all the inhabitants of Washington State, even those who had just moved here, even immigrants. He wasn't there. His friend wasn't there. We searched the police files. We searched the government agencies.

Nothing.

Embry Call did not exist. He was invisible.

Lightning cracked outside, basking the dark room in a split second of absolute brilliance. The lagging thunder ambled lazily, shaking the foundations of the apartment with an almost unnoticeable tremor. Derek turned in his seat, his bloodshot, tired eyes meeting mine with sadness. There was no need for words – we both knew who Embry Call must be. Embry Call, the invisible man who was so interested in me. Embry Call who had managed to find my unlisted number.

I stood up carefully, my panic numbed, my face unexpressive. My eyes did not linger on Derek. Instead, I looked at the black wall covered in tall shadows. Inside the recess of my mind I thought I could hear a small clock, ticking away ominously.

I was silent as I made my way out of the apartment, my ears ringing with the stillness of the stormy night.

I guess I should have been more concerned with this Rochester.

Because now he had found me.

-

I closed the door carefully behind me, making sure not to make any loud noises that might disturb the cozy calm of the house. Without thinking, I put all five locks in place behind me, the mere thought of them being needed sending a shot of fear through me.

"Welcome back, Charlotte," Rose's kind voice drifted from the living room.

I dropped my keys in the basket by the door and made my way into the living room. The elderly Makah woman looked up at me from her seat on the couch, smiling tiredly.

"What are you watching?" I whispered, motioning to the light TV as I took a seat beside her.

"The News," she smiled, "How was your day?"

I was silent, thinking about how I could answer that question.

She plowed on, "Someone has been trying to contact you like crazy today."

My head snapped to face her. I frowned, "What?"

The elderly woman chuckled, "I was surprised too, dear. It's not everyday you have a handsome sounding boy calling you like crazy."

My heart plummeted in my chest and I felt my throat seize up. The home phone was unlisted. The home phone was billed to my bank account. The home phone was billed to my real name. And someone had managed to find it.

"Who?" my voice sounded weak to my own ears.

Rose glanced over me, concerned, "Are you quite alright, Charlotte?"

I attempted a feeble smile, "Yeah, just a bit tired."

"Well, it is two-thirty in the morning, I believe. You have every right to be tired after such a long day," she smiled understandingly.

The TV anchorman droned on, his tailored voice somehow soothing to my ears with its normalcy.

Rose spoke up, "There are at least 17 messages on the machine for you, why don't you go listen to them? Just remember to close the kitchen door, it took me an hour to get Lucy to go to bed," she let out a small laugh, "She was adamant about staying up and waiting for you."

I felt my entire soul constrict, "How is she?" I sounded almost wistful.

"We went to the park today; she met up with that friend of hers, Mandi. She had lots of fun, but she worried for you," Rose hesitated and then turned to face me, "The park zoo is opening a new exhibit tomorrow, and she wanted to go down with you. It really means a lot to her."

Tomorrow. It was a bad day: I had to deal with Rochester, I had to keep a secret from Makoto. Most of all, I had to protect Lucy. And the only way I knew how to do that was to stay away.

But it wasn't fair to her that she couldn't live a normal life because of my mistakes.

"I'm taking a day off tomorrow. I'll go with her," I voiced, my eyes glued on the TV screen, not daring to glance at the wise woman.

"Good! Very good! Now, off you go – listen to those voicemails before you go to bed," she instructed.

"Are you staying the night?"

"Yes. And it's no problem, dear" she assured me, catching a yawn.

I nodded, my smile strained, but genuine. Sighing, I got up to my feet, stretching, "I'm going to listen to those messages then – please go to bed soon, you didn't have to stay up so late for me."

Rose chuckled, "Don't worry about me, Charlotte. I may not look it, but I'm as strong as an ox."

I attempted a smile again, my lips feeling odd at the sensation of smiling two times in a row. The Makah woman smiled back and then turned once more to fix her eyes on the flashing TV screen. I left her to it, shutting the door behind me as I entered the kitchen. Sure enough, the phone was glowing, a glaring red, flashing spastically.

18 messages.

I knew who it would be before I even pressed the play button, but it was still a shock. My entire body froze and my heart stopped with the familiar fear that seemed to plague me today.

"Hello! This is Embry Call! That guy you met on the street today…okay, I must admit, that sounded creepy…but you know, the guy with the cheesy pick-up line who you definitely showed up," I couldn't help the slight snort that escaped me when I remembered his brilliant angel fallen from heaven line. Then I frowned. I wasn't supposed to be laughing at anything this guy was saying, "…So, anyways, I just wanted to let you know that I would really like to meet you. Just, please leave the knife behind next time," he laughed, "As much as I am all about women defending themselves, I don't really appreciate the feel of a blade against my neck. Well, I guess that's it! My number is 567 435-9082. Give me call! Bye."

I erased the message, anger and desperation closing in around me. I felt short of breath. How had he found this number? How did he know my name? I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and let the next message start.

"Oy! Embry Call at the phone! So, Mystery Girl, I just wanted to check up on you, try to get a hold of you, but it seemed like you are still out. No problem. I have nothing but time on my hands," a pause, "Er…that did not sound good. Sorry about that. Anyways, give me a call!"

I violently erased that message. My hands were beginning to shake, and my skin was a cold blanket around me. I could hardly feel my fingers. I could hardly feel anything.

Next message.

"Yo. What up? Yeah…it's Embry-"

My finger pounded on the erase key.

"HHHeeeeeellllooooo…anyone home? I get the distinct feeling you are ignoring me. I'll let you know that I'm very persistent-"

Erase.

"It's Call. Embry Call. 007, at your service-"

Erase.

The next message began with complete silence. I pressed the play message again. What was wrong? I was about to press play again when the most horrible of screams sounded over the phone. I fell back, trying to stifle the scream that came out in response, and tripped over my jeans, falling to the floor with a crash. The phone clattered beside me, skidding across the tiled floor. My heart was beating erratically, and the knuckles that clutched the telephone line were white.

Loud raucous laughter erupted from the phone. Embry. Again.

I clambered up, trying to get a foothold as I raced to press the erase button. I didn't want to hear his voice. I never wanted to hear it ever again. My efforts were futile and I only succeeded in bringing down the entire phone crashing to the floor. I erased the message, cutting off his uncontrollable laughter.

"If you like Pina Coladas, and getting caught in the rain," his horrible rendition of Rupert Holmes, completely off-key, screeched itself over the phone, "If you're not into yoga, if you have half-a-brain. If you like making love at midnight-"

I plunged for the erase button, trying to cover my ears from the high-pitched climb he was trying to accomplish.

All the messages were from him. I erased them all, viciously. And then, I reached the very last one. The date read just an hour before I came back – it was separate from all the other messages.

His voice was quiet, serious, all the humor gone, "Charlotte Johansson." My very blood froze inside my veins, "Answer the phone." His voice then changed, almost imperceptivity. He called to someone in the background, "Jacob! Come here a moment!" A resounding growl echoed, I could barely make out the words in the background. Embry laughed over the phone, "Aww, Jakey is all upset. How tragic-"

Erase.

Jacob. Embry knew someone named Jacob.

Jacob Rochester.

I felt a watery choke make its way out of my throat. He knew my name. _He knew my name._ I sunk back into the wall, clutching the phone in my shaking hands. I was so cold. The world around me seemed to wash away, until all I could see was a blur of white. I hugged myself tightly, trying to keep myself from breaking. I almost spilled the entire contents of the medical bottle in my rush to open it. One lone tear coursed down my cheek.

I would have to give up Lucy.

It was too dangerous now. He knew my name. He knew my cell and my phone. I would never be able to escape him. The only choice was to flee. To run away, and never come back. Makoto would know by now. Jason, Jason who started this whole mess by killing Raskovielsky, he would be coming after me.

I knew what I had to do. I would give Rose custody of Lucy, my dearest Lucy. She would safe with Rose. She would never have to follow my footsteps. It had been my very intention to protect her from what had befallen me. And I would stay true to that promise.

The phone line went to a dead tone, the disconcerting note humming through the air.

* * *

_Do you hear the clock ticking? Embry just doesn't seem to catch a break, does he? Oh, and for those curious souls out there: Embry is invisible because Sam has made sure all the werewolves are. Just some info in case you were curious as to why he's virtually MIA._

_And, a message for ErikaBaby: I completely agree with you – that's a really great way to find good stories! I put up some good ones on my favs, check those out! _

_Until next time, lovelies!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	23. The Fast and the Furious 6

**Chapter 6  
**The Fast and the Furious

* * *

"Charlotte! CHARLOTTE! Look! The monkey is hanging upside down like…like a bat! Look at him!" Lucy tugged on my shirt insistently, bouncing in her eagerness.

I laughed, freely, tossing back my long blond hair over my shoulder. Lucy's eyes shone as she glanced up at me, all full of pent-up energy. I crouched down beside her, embracing her close to my body.

"Or like an opossum. Don't opossums hang upside down too? They could hang together!" I grinned in her ear.

Lucy giggled, "Don't be silly, Charlotte! Opossums don't live where monkeys live! You need a map! You made the same mistake with the polar bears and the penguins. Jeez."

The day was glorious. The sun was shining brightly, the sky was an ethereal blue and fluffy clouds, the kind you only see in movies, lazily trailed across the sky. The zoo, much to my surprise, was overflowing with people. Children ran around with their parents. Everything was defined in bright colors, in sunshine, in smiles and laughs. Everything was defined in happiness. This was the world I didn't belong to, and yet, here I was, strolling casually around the exhibits, Lucy skipping ahead of me, always calling my name. I bared my face to the world, and for once, people didn't look to me like I didn't belong.

I smiled.

Lucy turned away from the chirpy squirrel monkeys, her attention for the small mammals already gone. I shrugged my bag over my shoulder, leaning down to wrap my arms around her, "Where to now, angel?"

The toddler seemed deep in thought for a few moments before she suddenly jumped up, blond pigtails flying, "Let's go see the koalas and kangaroos!"

I almost raised a skeptic eyebrow at the odd choice, but I caught myself right on time. Instead, I smiled and took her hand, "Koalas and kangaroos it is!"

We were walking down the purple path, Lucy making careful care to step only inside the animal footprints, when she spoke up, "Are you having fun, Charlotte?"

Her voice was hesitant, almost scared of my answer. I frowned and squeezed her hand to reassure her, a gentle smile broke my face, a smile only Lucy had ever seen, Lucy and…I cleared my head and scoffed, complete honesty in my voice, "I'm having the most fun I've had in a very long time. I always have fun when I'm with you, silly."

My little girl smiled toothily, "I am too."

I laughed out loud.

"Charlotte," Lucy started.

I looked down at her, "Yes, angel?"

"Do you want to race?" she grinned, swinging her tiny arms back and forth.

I felt the same grin appear on my face, "On three."

"Wait! Rules first: the finish line is the duck pond, the first one there wins. And no cheating!" Lucy struggled to get out in her excitement.

"One!" Lucy dropped down into a starting position, tense and exuding energy.

I continued, mirroring her movements, "Two, annnnddddd…" Lucy almost fell over her feet in a false start, "THREE!"

We took off, dashing through the park. Lucy squealed, trying to burst ahead of me. I was laughing, truly laughing. It was an odd sound, a sound I hadn't heard in a very long time. In fact, the only time I ever laughed was when I was with Lucy. I gazed at the small girl whom I had slyly given a bit of a head start. Her feet splattered obnoxiously on the floor, and I watched her carefully, making sure that I was close enough to catch her if she should fall over her feet in her exhilaration.

"I'm going to catch up!" I called up to her, reaching out to lightly tickle her sides.

Lucy gave a shrill, almost breathless, shriek, her little legs pumping faster as she tried to pull further ahead of me, "No you won't! No you won't!"

The crowds parted as we ran through the middle of the path. One man had no choice but to dive out of the way when he realized, quite too late, that we were upon him. Kids of all ages watched, cheering as we broke past, one little girl even throwing what seemed to be mulch in our wake. The park guard rolled his eyes, but for the most part wore the amused half-smile that all the parents wore when they spotted our display.

"Watch out! Here I come!" I lengthened my stride, coming up beside her.

"No!" Lucy near screamed with bubbling laughter.

I grinned, "I'm going to win!"

She gave another shriek, her pace slowing because of her inability to breathe through her contagious giggles. I slowed my pace, a slow progressive, barely unnoticeable amount, so that she wouldn't be able to tell.

"Oh no! You're breaking for the final sprint! It looks like she's going to win!" I cried out, faking distress.

Lucy squealed with glee, "_I'm_ going to win!"

We fell over into the grass, Lucy curling up into a shaking ball of giggles. I grinned and attacked her sides with my fingers, tickling her. The toddler yelped, trying in a futile effort to break away from me. I grinned, bringing her towards me and wrapping my arms around her tiny body. Her bubbling excitement subsided, her breathing coming out more even as she buried herself farther in my arms. I gazed down at her, admiring the way her tiny face was built – big blue eyes, fully eyelashes, a tiny button nose, a plush little mouth. She was the most perfect child in the entire world. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"I won, Charlotte!" Lucy whispered happily into my ear.

I ruffled her hair, "I guess you showed me, angel."

"Yup. I did!" she beamed.

I propped up my head, lazily observing the crowd. There was a middle-aged woman, tucking a breezy looking scarf more securely around her neck. To her right was a small boy, avidly gulping down a chocolate ice scream scoop of gigantic proportions.

Then, my entire body tensed.

Fuck.

I turned quickly to Lucy, standing her up beside me. She looked at me, confused by the sudden action.

"Lucy, can you go play by the pond for a few minutes? I have to go talk to someone really fast. Can you do that for me?" I searched her eyes, my tone serious but laced with gentleness. The last thing I wanted was to scare her.

Lucy looked troubled, but she nodded like a good girl, "Yes. Will you be back?"

Her voice sounded so small, so unsure, so heartbroken. I felt my soul shatter at her tone, "Oh Lucy. I promised I would spend the day with you, and so I will. I just want to say a quick hello, that's all. I'll be right back, love."

This seemed to brighten her up and her nod this time was more enthusiastic, "Okay!"

I watched her carefully as she made her way to the pond, taking a seat next to a girl her age and touching the water with her fingers. The other girl seemed curious as to why Lucy was taking the risk of getting bit by the giant koi fish by putting her fingers in, but her question was quickly answered when a duck streamlined towards Lucy's smiling form. I heard a mumble as the other girl turned to Lucy, smiling, asking if she could play with the ducks with her. My heart swelled when Lucy accepted and the two girls, now friends, started laughing and splashing with the ruffled quaking duck.

Satisfied that Lucy would be taken care of, I stood up fluidly and made my way towards the ice scream stand.

"Derek," I spoke, calmly, without a trace of any of my previous emotions.

The young man swiveled, his blond hair, which was liberally streaked with light brown, covering his piercing eyes. An easy smile overcome his hard features when he caught sight of me, "Hey, Princess."

I cut straight to the chase, "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, "Passing through, enjoying the sunshine, you know: all that shit."

"Raskovielsky. Rochester. Makoto. What of them?"

Derek frowned, taking a thoughtful lick at his strawberry ice scream, "Rochester is taking no risks: he doesn't put any findings up on the network, so it's impossible for me to track him. Makoto is concerned with another issue – Moraes, a Brazilian gang lord, who in my opinion is fucking insane, wants to Makoto to ensure a shipment coming in next Monday. Monday also happens to be the day on which the police takes their press release to the newspapers. You are free until then, that's all I can assure you of."

"What of Embry Call?" my voice shook slightly.

Derek light up, "I found him! He was buried, standard code, an ass of a quick job. But I dug him up from his invisible grave. The boy was born on the Makah Reservation, north of the Quileute one where he lives. He went to high school and that's where his record ends. Online college, I would guess, he had one hell of a high school transcript, god I fucking hate smart kids. Or military academy – government programs. It could be anything. The record doesn't clear him up. Sorry, Charlie."

I raised a perfect eyebrow, "Sorry? Don't be. Now, disappear. We can't be seen together."

Derek scoffed, but heeded my curt words. With a tired wave he strolled away, in the direction of the exit. Inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. Lucy was safe.

How wrong I was.

Because when I turned around, my heart came to a terrified stop in pure horror. I couldn't move, I could barely hold myself from collapsing.

There, laughing with my Lucy, holding my Lucy's hand was none other than Embry Call.

* * *

_Ahhh! Cliffhanger! Yes. So, I am aware that this chapter is pretty short, but it really ended itself. It is important: it shows the relationship that exists between Lucy and Charlotte and also shows a bit of what Charlotte could be. _

_So, you guys tell me! I'm giving out Embry bear hugs to all that review! Don't miss out!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	24. The Fast and the Furious 7

**Chapter 7**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

All the heat I had accumulated from the sun turned to solid ice inside me, freezing the blood in my veins.

Embry Call. The invisible man. The man who was interested in me. The man who in a single day had found out more about me than anyone I had ever met in an entire lifetime. The man who would ruin my haphazard life.

Was touching Lucy.

What I wanted to do was fly over, rip Lucy out of his arms and claw his eyes out. That's what I wanted to do. But, of course, that would probably not be in my best interest. So I stayed calm, keeping my breathing in and out through my nose. Above all, I had to be careful. One false step and it was all over. This was not a game of brute strength, and thank god it wasn't, because if it hand been I would be sorely lacking when in comparison with Embry's lean, solid muscle and enormous frame. No. This was a game of negotiation, a game of words.

And I would make sure I won.

As I made my way carefully toward them, I noticed Embry was quacking softly under his breath, much to Lucy's amusement, drawing the ducks towards them. For a second I feared Lucy would fall into the pond as she leaned forward to gently caress the head of a duck, but Embry held her in a tight grip. Lucy was the first to notice me, giving an enthusiastic wave as I came up.

"Charlotte! Come meet my new friend!"

I almost choked with disgust. _New friend_? Over my dead body. My voice was clipped, "What have I told you about strangers, Lucy? Come on, let's go."

Lucy pouted, grabbing hold of Embry's arm. The much larger man looked down at her in surprise. I quickly adverted my eyes from him, not wanting to make eye contact. I was afraid of what would happen if I met his brown eyes. They were dangerous. They made me feel. And that was something I couldn't afford.

"Lucy," I warned.

"But he's not a stranger, Charlotte!" Lucy whined.

"Yes, he is," I said right back, feeling childish beyond measure.

And then Embry stood up, agilely and quietly. And I couldn't help but meet his eyes. My breath caught in my throat. They were just as I remembered them. A deep brown, an ordinary brown for eyes that were anything but ordinary. There was so much to them, I almost wanted to plunge into them and drown myself. I struggled to clear my mind.

His voice was roguish, grinning, "Charlotte, why don't you give me half a chance? Just one day, that's all I ask."

I frowned, "Don't patronize me."

Embry chuckled, raising his hands, "Look, I'll make a deal with you: give me one day, and if, by the end of the day, you still don't want to see me, if that's what you really want, then I'll leave you and never bother you again."

My hands shook with anger, "How dare you."

I looked quickly at Lucy. She was distracted, still giggling, petting the swarm of quacking ducks. I motioned to Embry to follow me. Once I made sure we were a safe distance from Lucy, and I was satisfied that she wouldn't hear our words, I turned fierily towards the tall Native American boy.

"How fucking dare you! Did you really think for a moment that I don't know what you are? Did you really think so? _What sort of a fucking idiot do you take me for_?"

Embry went still, his face paling lightly. "You know what I am?" his voice was a hoarse, almost unnatural whisper. I was too angry to notice the change in him.

I burst forward savagely, "Do you really think I would not be able to identify a fucking _cop_?"

Embry's tense form dissolved, and he let out a breath he had been holding. A small chuckle escaped him, "You think I'm a _cop_?" His laugh grew louder.

I frowned, stamping my foot down furiously, "What's so funny?"

He just kept laughing, unable to get a word out.

"Goddamnit! What's so fucking funny!"

Embry managed to voice out, "I'm _not_ a cop."

I stood still, unmoved, "Call it whatever you like, I know you are friends with Jacob Rochester."

Having managed to tame his laughter, the boy frowned, "Jacob Rochester? The only Jacob I know is a Jacob Black. Charlotte, is there something you want to tell me? Why would I be a cop?"

"Prove that you aren't," my voice was frigid.

Embry grinned, leaning forward, "No problem, take me to the cops, they'll let you know that they've never seen me…unless you count that episode, which was a huge misunderstanding, where I had the misfortune to get better acquainted with the residents of cell #19 in the 34th precinct."

I laughed.

It was so unusual, so unnatural that I almost chocked. It was the first time I had laughed at something a stranger, someone who was not Lucy, who was not Rose, had said. Charlie laughing. It was unheard of. Only Charlotte laughed. Not Charlie. Charlie was ice and indifference. It was physically impossible for Charlie to laugh.

Embry looked beyond happy, and when he spoke, his voice exuded warmth, "You have a beautiful laugh."

I stopped laughing, frantically trying to cover up the pathetic hiccupping that followed. "I don't laugh."

The boy rolled his eyes, shrugging his hands into his pockets, "So, Charlotte, now that I seemed to have passed the inquisition-style interrogation, do we have a deal?"

I analyzed him. His little speech proved nothing. He could still be a cop. He could still be in league with Rochester.

But he was honest.

I prided myself on my ability to catch a lie. And for all that he might be, Embry Call was not lying. That proved one of two things: either he was innocent or he more dangerous than I thought. And you know what they say in the Middle East; keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

"You have a deal, Embry Call."

Embry allowed a mischievous smirk, "You won't be disappointed."

I glared at him and promptly proceeded to walk over to Lucy, who was still enjoying her time with the ducks.

"Lucy! Come on, let's go!" I called out to her, fusing reluctant enthusiasm into my voice.

She looked up, one of her pigtails already fighting loose from its hold. Her eyes light up and she ran over, crashing into my outspread arms, "Is Embry coming with us, Charlotte? Is he?"

Embry fell to his knees too, his boyish features beaming, "You betcha, kiddo."

Lucy let out a happy squeal, very similar to the one she had let out last Christmas at receiving her favorite stuffed animal, "Yay! Embry Bear is coming!"

Embry let out a laugh, and then grinned a downright wolfish grin, "Actually I prefer wolves, personally."

I scoffed, not amused by his childish display, "Well, where to, angel? Still want to head over to the Australia exhibit?"

Lucy pondered this, her tiny face screwed up in concentration. She stomped her foot in anger, something both us girls seemed prone to doing often, "I don't know! Embry, you decide!"

Embry glanced to me, "I popcorn Charlotte."

Another glare at Embry, "I popcorn Embry."

"That doesn't count, I did it first!" he cried out, smiling.

I frowned, "Fine. I popcorn Lucy."

Lucy, who had been watching our exchange with interested eyes suddenly pouted, "That's not fair! I said the very first time."

I felt a smile slide onto my lips, "Too bad, sunshine, I'm older than you and what I say goes."

"Meanie," Lucy shot back, and then, her attention immediately diverted, she piped up, jumping excitedly, "Let's go see the lions and tigers!"

Embry light up and cheered, grabbing my hand unexpectedly as we rushed off to the Africa exhibit. I was too surprised to even argue.

-

When I had first arrived at the park, I had been glad for the bright sun. Happy even about how it warmed up my frigid being. Now, in the very climax of midday, I suddenly wished for the characteristic hail storms of Washington state. And even worse, Embry Call had yet to leave my side. There was something strange about that boy. Not only was there the fact that he seemed to generate heat, but he seemed to have an unnatural gait in his step. He was too quick. He was too laid-back. There was just something about him that made me question.

We had made quick work of the lion and tiger exhibit. As soon as we arrived, Lucy pushing her face up to the bars to get a better look, the lions had jumped to their feet, roaring and prowling. One of the lionesses tried to jump the trench separating them from us. It had scared Lucy, though at the same time delighted her – in true toddler fashion she hated when the animals had no reaction.

The tigers had been the same. And the odd thing was that Embry really seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the fact that dangerous wild felines were trying to jump the fence in order to rip us to shreds. I distinctly heard him chuckling to himself about 'stupid cats'.

Lucy spoke up, "I'm tired."

Before I had the chance to say anything, Lucy plopped down on the floor. I fell down beside her, "Me too."

Embry raised an eyebrow, "You two are tired already? Wimps."

I glared at him, half-jokingly.

"Come on, we'll take a lunch break and then I get to choose the next exhibit," Embry clapped his hands.

Lucy whined, "I so tired! I don't want to walk!" she rolled her head and shook her feet to accentuate her point.

I laughed at her antics, clutching my stomach as I laid out beside her. Embry crossed his arms above us, a smile lighting his face at my laugh. Rolling his eyes, he sat down with us, spreading out his long legs.

"No, no! I don't want to move!" Lucy stamped.

Embry glanced at me, "The indomitable Charlotte agrees?"

I lifted my nose in mock arrogance, "I laugh in the face of exhaustion. It's not part of my vocabulary."

He took one look at my lazy pose and chuckled, "Right. I can see that."

I couldn't help the smile that commandeered my lips. I shoved him in mock anger, "Watch it, smart aleck."

"Well, if none of you are going to move, I'm starving, so I guess I'll have to do all the heavy work around here," Embry sighed dramatically.

In one quick move he lifted Lucy onto his back, securing her there safely and offered his hand out to me, "Let's get a move on, Charlotte the not-so-lazy."

I was surprised when he took my purse and slung it over his shoulder. I went to protest, but he only smiled and told me that he wanted to carry it for me. I shrugged, and fell into step beside him as we headed over to the food court.

The path we were walking on now was a deep red, the path out of the savannah and into the central complex. Lucy was jabbering away, thrilled to tell Embry her entire life's story, from the moment she could first speak until now. Even though his attention on Lucy never wavered and he always inserted his input when appropriate, Embry never took his content eyes off me. He smiled at me, grinned even. And when I hesitantly smiled back, out of lack of nothing else to do when faced with so much attention, his entire face shone with a light of its own.

I didn't think he was a cop anymore.

In fact, I didn't even believe that he knew Rochester. That had all been such a bad nightmare, fit more for the constant onslaught of torrential downpour than the sunny summer day of today. No, Embry wasn't in league with Rochester. But that didn't hide the fact that there was something about Embry that I just couldn't explain. His agility, his speed, his undeniable and inexhaustible strength. Those attributes weren't military inspired, I had come to that conclusion easily. Nor were they anything that would associate him with the government. No. They were…inhuman, almost. Too natural to be anything acquired by training. Embry Call had a secret. And Charlie would find out what if was.

"Food!" Lucy let out, happily clapping her hands.

Embry's stomach gave a mighty rumble in response.

I raised an eyebrow in his direction, "Hungry?"

His grin was downright feral, "Starving."

We sat down at a small table, near the peacocks at Lucy's insistence, near the food at Embry's pleading, and in the shade at my request. I was just rummaging through my bag for money when Embry bolted for the food line, Lucy in tow.

"Charlotte! What do you want?" he called out to me.

Several people glanced up at his loud voice, smiling slyly in my direction. For the first time in a very long time, I felt a flush take over my cheeks. I was blushing. Furious, I tried, in a futile effort, to erase the color from my face. Attention. I wasn't used to the attention that Embry was heaping on me. His warm glances, his funny smiles. He was unlike anything I had ever encountered.

"Anything," I called back, trying to push away the curious and knowing glances from complete strangers.

Embry was persistent, apparently oblivious to anyone other than him and me, "What's your favorite food?"

My favorite food? I didn't have a favorite food. I ate to survive, "Anything."

A look of determination overcame Embry's features, and for a moment, I was scared. He leaned down, whispering quickly into Lucy's ear. Lucy nodded eagerly, looking in my direction and tossing me a full arm wave. I smiled back at her, adding my own wave. In less than a second, Embry left the line and sprinted to my side. He slid into the seat next to me.

"Just tell me, what's your favorite food?" Embry asked, almost pleading.

I felt my breath catch in my throat. He was mere inches away from me. I could feel the heat he was radiating. I see every freckle on his boyish face. How had he gotten so close? My voice came out pathetically muted by my short breath, "I don't have a favorite food."

Embry frowned, a lopsided grin taking over, "Everyone has a favorite food, Charlotte."

He was so beautiful. I had failed to notice that before. There was a flawless beauty about him. He was the handsomest man I've ever laid eyes on. I shook my head - concentrate Charlotte, don't let him get to you.

Thankfully, my voice was steadier than last time, "I am not everyone."

A gentle look, a goofy smile, "I know that."

There was a silence. But not an uncomfortable one. I was lost in his eyes, those brown eyes that captivated me so. He was so close. So very close. I could feel his breath on my upturned face.

"EMBRY!"

He almost fell out of his seat at Lucy's shrill cry. I threw myself back, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. What had just happened? Embry stood up, ready to sprint over to Lucy, who was motioning like crazy from the counter.

"Pasta."

Embry turned around at the sound of my voice. I kept my breathing even as I met his eyes.

"My favorite food, it's pasta alfredo."

Embry's grin was by the far the best sight I had ever beheld. He showed his teeth when he smiled, the contrast with his dark skin making them shine a bright white. His lips looked soft. He had dimples, on each side. With a quick wink, he rushed off for the food.

There was something about Embry.

Something that drew me to him like a moth to a light. A pang seared across my chest, painfully. He was honest. A man without troubles. I couldn't thrust myself upon him. My life was my own burden. I would not let him carry it. For his own good, I would have to make sure he never found me again. But my God, it's so beautiful when that boy smiles.

-

"What next, angel?" I asked Lucy, our arms swinging together as we skipped forward.

It took her less than a second to decide, "The wolves!"

Embry looked at her, an excited expression stealing over his face, "Yes! Finally! The wolves!"

We were strolling down the blue path, content in the lazy afternoon that was fading quietly as the sun inched closer to the horizon on its fiery path along the sky. Lucy was swinging back and forth between me and Embry, hanging tightly from our hands. Her giggles were infectious, so much that I couldn't keep the smile from my lips. Embry was still carrying my bag, a favor I felt bad about, especially since he had paid for our meal.

I glanced over at him, chuckling, "I take it you like wolves."

He winked at me, "They are only what, the most amazing creature to walk this earth? Wolves and me: perfect harmony. How about you?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "Just as much as the next person."

Embry leaned over, raising a skeptical eyebrow. He grinned and whispered conspiratorially, "I promise I won't tell anyone…"

A laugh escaped me, causing me to push him away with my free hand, "Come off it."

The handsome boy looked at me expectantly. I sighed testily, finally giving in, "Yes. I like wolves."

Lucy turned her sun-kissed face into the conversation, "Just _like_ them? Charlotte!"

Embry joined Lucy in her effort, "_Like_ them? I'm disappointed in you, Charlotte! A person so open and so emotional like you only _liking _something? Tsk, tsk."

I threw Embry a glare for his sarcastic remarks, "Fine. You got me. I _love_ wolves."

Embry cheered, tossing Lucy high into the air. He turned to the people strolling through the zoo around us, screaming out for all to hear, "Charlotte loves wolves!"

My eyes widened in embarrassment and I reached over, taking hold of his arm, trying to stop him. "Embry! Stop it!" I hissed mortified.

Embry just laughed, ruffling my hair with his free hand, "I knew you'd come around, baby."

Baby? I was about to open my mouth to protest at the nickname. But then I stopped myself. I liked it when he called me baby. To tell him I didn't want him to call me that was a lie. And while Charlie might lie through her teeth, Charlotte did not.

"Look! The wolves!" Lucy broke free, tripping over herself in her excitement to reach the exhibit.

Embry, as untamed as a three year old, grasped my hand, beaming as he pulled me into a run beside him.

The three of us plastered our faces to the glass, Lucy and Embry near to squealing with excitement. The wolves stopped pacing, turning their great heads in our direction. A great grey wolf took one hesitant step forward before falling into what appeared to be a bow.

Embry's voice resounded in my ear, "Are you afraid, Charlotte?"

In a minimal gesture, I turned to face him. He wasn't asking me if the wolves scared me. A tiny smile, an unquestionable honesty in my voice.

"No."

* * *

_Phew! That was one long chapter. Lots of yummy Charlotte/Embry interaction! And there is more coming up! Time is running short for Charlotte and she still doesn't know if she can trust him. Poor Embry, life's so hard for him! ;) _

_Review if you love Embry! Which I know you all do. ;)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	25. The Fast and the Furious 8

**Chapter 8**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

Lucy fell asleep soon after the sun set. Embry had quickly, and with amazing gentleness, picked her up into the protective circle of his arms. I had protested, more out of habit than true purpose, but he had quickly appeased me with a quick quirk of his smile. I was embarrassed to admit, but I had been too dazzled by his inhuman glory to push further. We made our way quietly through the closing park, not saying anything, but not feeling the need to. It was not an awkward silence, nor was it uncomfortable. I was a quiet person by nature, a woman of few words, and I was content enough to walk beside Embry, my Lucy in his arms.

When we got to the big green gates that marked the entrance and exit of the park, the first thing we heard was the noise. The park guard, a middle aged woman with stern features, was hollering loudly at all around her, trying to get everyone out by closing time.

Embry glanced over at me, his forehead twisted in an angry scowl, "That damn woman is going to wake Lucy up."

"No," I shook my head lightly, "Lucy is a deep sleeper. She doesn't wake up for anything once she's out."

"Either way, I rather she keep it down to a dull roar," Embry trailed off, turning his eyes to the guard.

Luckily, Embry didn't have to resort to any drastic measures to assure silence. The park guard spotted us coming and instantly quieted, smiling apologetically at us as we walked by.

"Sorry 'bout that," she whispered.

I tilted my head in a shake, "Don't worry, not even a raging tiger can wake her up now."

The lady smiled, her eyes softening as she glanced at Lucy's sleeping form, "She's a beautiful little girl."

"Yes, she is," I assented, taking in the rise and fall of Lucy's breathing.

"You two must be proud parents to have such a beautiful child," the guard finished, looking from me to Embry with a knowing smirk. She leaned in towards Embry, "She takes after your wife, doesn't she?"

My eyes widened in complete surprise and shock at the accusation. Embry, my husband? Lucy, our daughter?

Embry and I spoke at the same time: "Oh no! It's not-"

"Our daughter? No! It's-"

The lady looked confused.

Embry's soothing voice cut me off, "What we're trying to say is that we're not together. We're just friends. Lucy is her daughter." Embry looked sad at this last comment, as if the mere thought that Lucy could be my daughter hurt him to the very core of his being.

I was taken aback. Lucy. He thought Lucy was my daughter. I looked down at the little bundle in his strong arms. Her long, dark eyelashes, her long straight blond hair, her closed bright cornflower blue eyes. We were so alike, so similar. And she was so young compared to me. I concluded that I wasn't surprised that Embry had thought Lucy to be my daughter.

The park guard blushed, embarrassed by her assumption, "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything. I am very sorry if I offended you."

I attempted a kind smile in her direction; it was easy to do with Embry around, "No offense taken, you must see a lot of families during the day."

She looked relieved at my admission, "Yeah, and today was a coupon day. Coupon days are stuffed with families!"

Embry chuckled, "Coupon days are big where I come from."

The lady raised her eyes to his, encouraging him to continue, "Really?"

He let out another chuckle, "We're one _big_ family, and we do everything together."

"That must be fun," the lady commented, her eyes flicking towards a man who was trying to sneak in through the side door, "I hate to interrupt, but, if you'd excuse me-"

I jumped in, laying my hand on Embry's bare arm to push him out, "Have a nice evening!"

The park guard was already on her way towards the suspicious man, making me doubt she had heard me. We walked out of the park, making our way down the yellow-tinged lighted streets. I thought back to Embry's easy admittance about his family. He was so open, and yet I knew nothing about him. He had somehow figured out everything about me and all I knew was his name and where he lived.

My voice sounded loud in the empty streets, "You have a big family?"

Embry turned to me, looking eager for conversation, "Yup. I mean, they're not really my family, but we're close enough that it counts as one."

I looked up at him curiously, "They're not your real family? Are you adopted?"

He laughed quietly, "I guess you could say that. I never met my father, and my mother died a few years back. My friends and I are really close, though, so we basically are one huge family. Emily, that's Sam's fiancée, acts like a mother to all of us, while Sam is our leader…um, figurehead sort of thing."

I felt my tongue become twisted, unsure of what to say or do, "I'm sorry about your parents."

A soft smile, "Don't be. My mom lived a happy life before she passed away, and I'm happy now. Now that I've found you."

It was a surprise my head didn't fall off, it snapped up so fast to meet his eyes. My breath caught in my throat. Embry Call was throwing my carefully structured world upside down. I was not used to smiling. I was not used to answering questions. I was not used to sharing my thoughts. I was not used to spending time with people. I was not used to being Charlotte.

I was not used to feeling this much.

We were caught in each other's eyes again. The world seemed to stop still, waiting, anticipating. His eyes were so deep, such a beautiful brown. His short black hair framed his long eyelashes and dimpled cheeks. Closer. We were moving closer. I felt his free arm slowly wrap itself around me, bringing me even closer. I had stopped breathing.

And then I saw him.

I instantly threw myself away from Embry, shattering the spell. A single word, laced with anger and unconcealed fear came from my lips, "Jason."

The expressions flew across my face, unmasked, as I grasped Embry's arms, desperately pleading with my eyes, "Embry, you have to hide. Please, take Lucy with you and hide. By God, don't let him see you!"

"Charlotte, I-"

I didn't let him speak, "Please Embry. I don't think I could live with myself if either of you got hurt on my account."

A tense moment passed. Embry looked ready to argue, his eyes immeasurable dark, his jaw locked. But deep inside, for all that my heart soared at his readiness to fight for me, I knew I could not let him face Jason. Jason was a cold-blooded murder. Embry, bright, sunny, laughing Embry, would not last against him. To Jason, there was nothing but blood and death were Embry stood. And Embry, in the quick day we had spent together had become so much to me. I could not describe the fear that gripped my frigid heart, or the images of an Embry, stone cold on the streets, a small, bleeding hole through his forehead, that assaulted my mind.

"I cannot let you get hurt," Embry's baritone was a whisper of pain. He reached out tremulously with his free hand, cupping my face gently.

Charlie was slowly taking over me, and she grinned savagely, "Well, then, it's a good thing that it doesn't matter what you think"

Embry's expression remained determined, "You don't have to be alone anymore."

His careful, barely whispered words touched my frozen being. Charlie faltered, Charlotte looked up hopefully. But Jason was coming. And only Charlie could handle Jason.

"Save Lucy, Embry. Save her. If he would ever lay eyes on her, it would be the end of my existence," I gasped out, pleading one last time before the transition from Charlotte to Charlie was complete.

Embry must have seen it in my eyes, because he heeded my words with a sad smile, "I won't be far. You aren't alone anymore."

I watched him disappear behind the street corner. My breath condensed in the suddenly frigid air around me. Jason was still a block away, and he hadn't seemed to have noticed me. But of course, that was an act; Jason had the refined senses of a killer. My hands shook as my brain screamed for the pills. I indulged the monster inside me, gulping the two orange pills down desperately. The drug seeped into my veins, calming down my needy system and placing a pleasant humming in my ear.

I smirked. This was going to be fun.

"Jason," I drawled, lazily running my fingers through my long hair.

The man stopped, his wicked grin in place as his sharp, piercing eyes met mine, "Charlie. Isn't it a little late for you to be wandering the streets?"

I ignored the involuntary shiver that ran up my spine, "Who are you after?"

Jason stopped right in front of me, his imposing height looking down at me. A cruel grin twisted his features; destroying any semblance of humanity he might have retained otherwise, "You."

I raised one nonchalant eyebrow, "You're going to have to try harder than that."

His hands found their way into the pockets of his dark jeans, "Don't tempt me."

My fingers flicked a non-existent piece of dust off my blue shirt. "I wouldn't dream of it," I sighed, bored, "Do you have them?"

Jason's feral eyes never left me as he tossed a flash of orange in the night. The bottle jingled slightly with the movement, a loud sound in the quiet. I caught the bottle deftly, quickly slipping it into the recesses of my deep pockets.

Jason chuckled darkly, his throat raspy with smoke, "You're weak, Charlie. And your time is running out."

I didn't even bother to look up at him, "Out of the two of us, I think I'll be the judge of that."

The murderer violently grabbed my arms, his fingers painfully digging into my flesh. I stifled the whimper of pain that fought to escape my lips. Jason's teeth gleamed in the darkness as he hissed viciously, "Don't fuck around with me, woman. I've had enough of this fucking shit. Unless you want to fucking disappear-"

A dangerous growl broke through Jason's savage words. I quickly took the opportunity and detached myself from him coldly, "Temper, temper, Jason. That won't do at all."

I was playing with fire: Jason, with his volatile disposition and extreme accuracy, was not to be messed with. But I felt powerful, in control, and so I kept my emotions hidden, knowing how my cold indifference bother him to no end.

"Shut the fuck up!" he spit, his quick hands reaching inside his coat.

I crossed my arms, "What does Makoto want?"

There was an eerie pause, and I could hear the silence that encircled the dark night ringing in my ears. The dirty yellow light of the street lights barely managed to cast Jason's sharp features into shadows. A slow, frightening grin was stretching across his striking inhuman face.

"You."

I sensed the ground shift below me as the tables turned. No, I refused to lose. I choose the easy route, and broke out in a rakish grin, "Really? Well, I've never slept with an Asian before."  
Jason's grin vanished, only to be replaced with an ugly scowl, "Fucking whore."

I clicked my tongue brightly, "Language, Jason. Watch your language."

In an uncharacteristic movement, he cast off my challenge, and, instead, chuckled - a dark laugh that froze my blood. I willed myself not to take a step back.

His eyes glittered dangerously, "Oh Charlie. Can't you hear the fucking clock ticking? Time's up, baby. Makoto wants to know about Raskovielsky, to know that you haven't fucked up," he paused, relishing the moment, his chiseled face leaning into me, "But I know better. Your little friend, Derek, hasn't been seen in days. And he never stays away for long. You two fucked up bad, didn't you? Let me tell you, Charlie, it's going to be real fucking pleasure to shot a neat little hole through your pretty head."

I leaned in, an imperceptible smile curving my lips, "First, you're gonna have to catch me."

With that, I firmly turned my back to Jason, not waiting to see the cold fire in his eyes that was meshed with the bloodlust that always consumed him. My eyes were blank, but I was raging. I walked fast, turning the corner of the block so suddenly that I almost ran into Embry. He was plastered against the wall, holding sleeping Lucy tightly to him.

And his eyes.

His eyes were wide with shock. His brow was creased, and a small dimple of worry marred his carefree look.

A still silence invaded the night as I found myself once again caught in his eyes. And all at once it came flooding onto me. All my life I had been living a cruel joke. Fate had dealt me a bad card. Charlie was a part of me. And all the people I had met, all the people I had allowed myself to get close to had thrown me to the curve when they found out. So I stopped meeting people. I stopped talking. I stopped being Charlotte. I did not run from fate, I did not turn away from the cruel life I lead.

And I did it all for Lucy, so that she might one day be able to escape what I have not.

Without saying a word I took Lucy from his strong arms, taking care not to wake her. Her eyes fluttered slightly before she drifted back into sleep, clutching tightly at my shirt. The darkness was everywhere in the night streets, making it hard to discern the expression on Embry's face. I found that I didn't care.

I had let down my guard. And I was ashamed that I had let Embry glimpse into the person I could no longer be.

I turned around, and started walking home.

"Wait!" Embry called, sprinting up after me.

I closed my eyes and kept walking, not allowing myself to slow down.

"Charlotte, please-"

My stop was so sudden, so violent, that Embry nearly toppled to the hard ground. My eyes blazed, "My name is Charlie. And you better not forget that."

Embry's eyes burned right back, "No. You aren't Charlie. Charlie is a charade of who you truly are."

I screamed in frustration, almost baring my teeth, "_How dare you?_ How dare you judge me? You don't know what I've had to do! _You don't understand anything!_ How could you even hope to understand? You're nothing but a _boy_!"

Embry's expression darkened with sadness, and he started to open his mouth when I cut across him viciously, "Who do you work for, Embry Call? The police? Rochester? Why don't you go tell them to _fuck off_! _I didn't kill Raskovielsky!_"

"I don't work for the police," his voice was quiet, but determinately strong.

I laughed, a cruel dark sound that hinted of Jason, "The _hell_ you don't."

"I wouldn't lie to you, Charlotte."

"_Don't call me that! Don't you even presume to know who I am!_" I stomped my foot angrily on the ground, gritting my teeth together, "Everyone lies. _Everyone lies all the fucking time!_ They lied to my mother! And she paid for it with her life!" I felt a tear course down my cheek and violently wiped it from my face, cursing myself for being weak when I should be strong, "They lied to me. Everyone fucking lies all the fucking time."

There was a silence after my words. We had yet to move from our position on the sidewalk near the lamp post. The distant noises of a motorcycle zooming through the night echoed through the alleys. Embry said nothing, just looked at me carefully through his downcast eyes. I stifled the wrenching sob that struggled to make its way up my throat. I won't allow myself to cry. Charlie didn't cry. I took a shaky breath.

"You say you aren't a cop. How did you get my number?" my voice was icy, though a hint of fear prevailed.

"Rose is my aunt."

My heart froze. My eyes widened. My pulse seemed to stop.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I didn't mean for you to think otherwise."

I glanced up at him, barely daring to do so. Rose was his aunt. Oh god. How could I have overlooked that? He had told me his mother was Makah. It was my job to be observant, informed, and yet, I had failed. My arms tightened around Lucy. Now he knew everything. And I had nowhere to hide. I had nowhere to run.

But I didn't have to.

Embry took a cautious step forward, his hands in front of him where I could see them, his eyes encouraging me to trust him.

I continued to gaze at him from under my eyelashes, a hesitant expression on my features. But I didn't move.

Another step, I stood my ground.

And then he was right there, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ear. He smiled, a soft smile, a beautiful smile that made my icy heart warm.

"You aren't alone anymore, Charlotte. I'm here now," he whispered, his eyes fierce with their promise.

My face was titled upward so I could keep my eyes locked with his. His thumb erased all remaining tears from my white skin.

"Come on, let's take Lucy home," he gathered me to him, warming my lithe body to the very core.

As we walked quietly down the street, Lucy slumbering away in my arms, and my head resting heavily on Embry's strong shoulder, I knew what he meant. He was careful with his words, as always. He wasn't taking Lucy home. We weren't taking Lucy home. He was taking me home. But he didn't have to say it.

By the time we reached my house, it must have been very late. The city for once was quiet, only the occasional whine of a siren lost in the distance. But Embry didn't mind. I didn't mind. He was careful to look away when I was opening the locks, as to give a semblance of privacy, as to keep my light illusion of safety intact. He was careful with me, and no one, no one since my mother had died, had been careful with me. It was nice.

I opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open for Embry. But he shook his head, smiling lightly.

"I'll leave you, I actually am staying at Rose's and I wouldn't want her to get worried," he explained, leaning on the doorframe.

I nodded mutely, a great weight lifting off my shoulders. Embry was careful with me. Embry was going to be careful with me.

"Good night, Charlotte," he whispered, and with the expression his eyes it seemed he was saying so much more.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, quietly, almost inaudibly.

He smiled, "Yes."

"Good night, Embry," the words were awkward coming from my mouth.

With a casual half wave, he fell back, starting his way down the stairs, "Don't le the bed bugs bite!"

I cracked a smile at that, holding Lucy tight to me. Then I remembered. I took a step out the door, reaching out.

"Embry, wait."

He turned around, his dark hair falling slightly into his bright eyes. I smiled at him.

"Lucy isn't my daughter," I started.

His eyebrows shot up.

"She's my sister."

And as I closed the door behind me and made my way towards Lucy's bed, I could have sworn I heard a whoop of joy in the night.

* * *

_And the enigma, that oh so itching question that has been plaguing so many readers has been solved! Lucy is…(drum roll)…Charlotte's beloved little sister! Yay! Let's throw some confetti for that! :) You guys are just getting spoiled with these long chapters. ;) On the darker scale of things, Jason definitely knows that something is amiss, which could bode very badly for Charlotte…_

_Kisses and sunshine for everyone! :)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	26. The Fast and the Furious 9

**Chapter 9**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

I was at the docks when he found me.

The day was just like any other day at Seattle: cloudy overcast skies over a grey turbulent bay. Sea gulls cackled overhead, every so often plunging into the foaming white splash of the waves. As of now, it wasn't raining, but the threatening, ominous, boom of thunder and the mass of dark clouds in the horizon kept the people away from the sea.

"Good morning," he opened quietly, taking a seat down next to me on the edge of the worn wooden dock.

I acknowledged him with a small nod of my head, though I didn't turn to him. The wind ruffled my hair, throwing it about like a golden splash, or firework. I pulled my jacket tighter around me.

When I spoke, my breath came out in a light puff of white, "This is where she died."

Embry stood completely still in my peripheral vision. His dark hair and copper skin seemed all the more beautiful in the dreary backdrop. My hands gripped the edge of the wood, and I felt the splinters digging into my palm.

"Her name was Alice. But they called her the Red Butterfly. I never found out why they called her that, and on some level, I'm sure I never really wanted to," I paused, breathing in the slightly salty twang of the air, "She was my mother."

A blue boat floated haphazardly on the rising waves, the men on board scurrying around with ropes and rain jackets.

"She joined when she was nineteen. She was young. She was impressionable. She had been with the wrong crowd in high school – her boyfriend had joined at fourteen. His name was Alex. He promised her the world, so she joined. She did small things at first, but then she couldn't stop. Then, she became the Red Butterfly. She was legendary."

Embry shifted closer when he noticed me shiver. His perpetual warmth eased my shaking, and I calmed my nerves, my eyes never leaving the undefined horizon.

"And then, just when the city feared her, something unexplainable happened. The Red Butterfly had me. Me, a living breathing child. To the world, it proved her own mortality. To her, I was her redemption. She found something she had never had before: love," I smiled, though it left a bittersweet taste in my mouth, "She hadn't found it with Alex, or with her parents who disowned her. She found it with me."

I could almost see her, her long blond hair blowing about as she called to me, the most perfect smile of happiness in the world on her bright face. I could smell her, a light touch of wildflowers and peaches that lingered on her skin. I could hear her, laughing brilliantly at my content giggling. I could feel her, holding me tightly, promising to never let go.

But in the end, that was not her promise to give.

"She all but quit to take care of me. I was her occupation. She hired a tutor for me, so I could learn and perhaps one day go to college. She was happy with me, she had found her calling in motherhood. But, there were those that disagreed. They had raised her, made her who she had become. And when they found out about me, I became their child too," a guy squalled overhead, biting back at its companion for stealing its catch, "I joined when I was five years old."

Embry seemed to start at this, but thankfully, he kept silence, respecting my drive and need to tell her story. Respecting my need to tell him her story.

"Alex was killed when I was eleven. The police found him. It was a gruesome murder: he had been stabbed fourteen times, and then hanged from the beams at a storage place, right here, on the docks. No one knew who did it. But I did. I remember that night, when she came into our small apartment. She was covered in it…red sticky blood. She was crying. It was the only time I ever saw her cry. As a child, I didn't find out what had happened until much later."

The waves of the sea where getting higher now, in the wake of the approaching storm. The wind sprayed us occasionally with the droplets from the very tips of the sashaying waves, but neither of us, me nor Embry, made a single move to stop it.

"My mother had loved Alex, on some level. He was the one who brought her to them. He had been the one who had housed her when she had no home. He had been my father. And all the time that my mother had known him, from the very start of their time in high school, he had been cheating on her with another woman. Her name was Veronica," I closed my eyes, trying to shutter away the memory of the dark-haired woman who haunted my dreams, "The Red Butterfly found out when I was eleven. The day after, Alex's death was printed in every paper. It was no coincidence."

I stopped there, leaning back on my hands, letting the wind toss my hair wildly about so that it shielding my face from the world half the time.

"A week after Alex's death, the Red Butterfly found out she was pregnant. I had a sister, Lucy. She didn't tell anyone about Lucy. Not a single soul. Only me. She wanted to save Lucy in a way she hadn't been able to save me. They would not know about Lucy," my voice dropped into a determined whisper, "They will never know about Lucy."

Embry looked like he wanted to reach out, to touch me, but he stopped himself before he made a move. All the boats in the bay were safely docked into their niches, awaiting the passing of the oncoming storm.

"Lucy was born in June. The Red Butterfly died in November. Veronica had loved Alex. And she figured it out. She figured out how killed Alex. The day my mother got the first threat, I remember it was raining. Lucy was sleeping, and I was supposed to be sleeping too. But I heard the commotion. Veronica had powerful friends. The Red Butterfly, my mother, had seven days and seven nights left to live."

My voice got caught in my throat and I bit my lip. The clouds were almost upon us. I felt the push around me, the rocking of the swelling waves. My hands held on tighter to the worn wood of the dock.

"That day, the day she died, she made me promise. She made me promise that no matter what happened, I would save Lucy. No matter what happened, they should never find out about little Lucy. She tried hard not to cry. Right before she left, she apologized to me for bringing me up into this cruel life. She knew that I was doomed. There was no escape for me or for her. She had known that all along."

The scene had replayed itself so often in my mind that sometimes I wondered if it was even real, or if it was merely a figment of my imagination. There she was, my mother, in all her glory, kissing me fiercely on the forehead, hugging me tightly, making me promise to take care of our Lucy, apologizing for the life she had given me and the one she had not been able to give to me.

"That was the last time I ever saw her. My mother. The Red Butterfly."

It was starting to drizzle, a light sprinkle of rain that was merely a teasing taunting before the onslaught. I fell into silence, allowing the rain to drench through my jacket. Embry was staring at the grey eaves beneath us, his shoulders blocked, his jaw locked.

"The tattoo on your back…" he trailed off, not looking at me.

I nodded, "Yes. I got it three months after she died, to remind me of her."

For the first time, I was hesitant in my speech, the image of the dark-haired Veronica laughing away in my mind, "There is more, you know."

Embry looked up, his kind eyes letting me know he was listening. I had yet to turn to him, my gaze fixed on the ever turbulent sea.

"Veronica and Alex had a child. A boy. My half-brother," I drew in a shaky breath, "His name is Jason."

The sound that came out of Embry's throat was too much of a rumbling growl to sound human, "That man from last night? The one who threatened you?"

I almost laughed, but the only thing I could manage was a quirk of my lips, "It's Jason's job to threaten, and then go through with it."

The rain was coming down in sheets now, luminescent with light from the tiny cracks in the sky. In one sudden movement I turned to face Embry. He was really close. Our eyes caught onto each others and for a moment I lost my breath.

"I am the farthest thing you could even want in a girl. You deserve so much better than me, Embry. So much more than I could ever offer. You're just wasting your time with me."

Embry looked shocked at my words and a steely glint of fierce determination entered his eyes. He took hold of my hand, holding it tightly in between his large warm ones. "Never ever say that again. You are perfect for me," he whispered intensely.

I pursed my lips, "No, Embry. You know I'm right. It would be better if you left and never saw me again."

Embry shook his great head, sending water droplets flying into my face, "I will never leave you, Charlotte. I can't."

Thunder split the sky in a crashing symphony, and I felt my frustration mount to the surface, my eyes shone with the rain that tore its way down my cheeks like mock tears, "Damnit Embry! Don't you understand? I am not the girl for you! I have put innocent people in jail, I have arranged murders, God – _I'm addicted to meth!_" I whipped out the small bottle out of my pant pocket and thrust it at him, hating myself for my disgusting addiction, my disgusting weakness, "And no matter what I do, I will never be able to escape. There is no way out for me."

My last words were nothing more than a cracked whisper, a broken hope.

There was a still second, when the world seemed to flash with the purple light. I saw everything so clearly, so brilliantly. And it was only Embry, Embry with his passionate, smothering brown eyes.

I can't really describe it, it happened so fast. One second there was absolute stillness, and the next, with the thunder booming above us, Embry threw away the space between us, crashing his warm lips onto mine.

He was everywhere.

His arm was around my waist; his hand was tangled in my drenched golden locks. I closed my eyes at the sensation, at the fierce attention he was bestowing on my lips and body. My hands pulled him closer, running through his soft black hair.

When we pulled apart, both of our breaths were ragged. His hand was still in my hair, holding me close to him, our foreheads touching as we gazed into each other's eyes. I was completely dazzled, and there was no way to hide it. Embry's eyes were dark with such powerful emotions that my entire soul lifted at the sight of them.

"There is always a way out, Charlotte. I'm here for you, and I won't let you fall," he whispered strongly.

It was like another door had opened, one I had never seen before. Because without Embry, it wouldn't be there. I was hopeful, almost foolish, "It would not be easy, or even guaranteed, but I might be able to do it. I will need a place to hide."

Embry's characteristic goofy grin broke across his boyish face, "La Push is pretty much the middle of nowhere."

The rain was drumming on the dock now, a heavy deluge of water pouring from the opening gates of the sky. The waves rocked our small dock back and forth, running a thrill of coursing electric adrenaline through me. I felt my courage building, a hard resolve filling me to the very core.

I, Charlotte, daughter of the Red Butterfly, was going to break Makoto.

And I knew just where to start.

* * *

_Alright, peeps. There you have it. How do we feel, now that everything is coming up into the light? How do we judge our little Charlotte now? ;)_

_If you liked the, well, _passionate_ kiss our Embry gave Charlotte, do leave a review! There really is nothing like a first kiss! ;)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	27. The Fast and the Furious 10

**Chapter 10**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

Rochester was leaning on the counter, chatting amiably with the chief of police when I walked right into the precinct office.

The sun had come out again, so my hair was agreeably dry, falling in a tumble of blonde over my slim shoulders. My black jacket was still soaking, sticking close to my white t-shirt underneath and my skin below. The same could be said for my jeans, which threatened to fall off my slight hips in their dead weight. And on my lips was a small smile, a content quirk of my lips. My freedom was within my reach, all I had to do was fight for it. Embry had gone to take Rose and Lucy out of the city; some friends of his were coming to pick the two of them up. They would be gone within the hour. And then, it was just me. Charlotte.

"Yeah, tell me about it, the rain just doesn't seem to stop around here!" Rochester chuckled deeply, taking a swing from his coffee mug.

The chief of police didn't answer, because his mouth had fallen open at the sight of me, leisurely standing behind Rochester, hands in pockets. The precinct was buzzing with life, the chatter of cops filing in through the big glass double doors, and there I was, a wanted criminal, the main suspect in a large murder case, standing right in the middle of it all.

I winked at the rotund policeman, allowing a grin to take over my face, "Good morning, chief. I was wondering if I could borrow Rochester for a few minutes."

Rochester turned around so fast that he would have fallen right on his face if not for his dynamic build. His green eyes widened at the sight of me, and his mouth fell open stupidly in surprise.

With a small chuckle, I held out my hand, "Charlotte Johansson. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The cleverest detective in the world looked so utterly confused that I almost took pity on him. The cluster of papers desperately clutched in his hand fluttered to the floor as his arms went slack. The chief of police wasn't much help behind him – he was still frozen, donut halfway to his mouth, staring at me unabashedly.

I swung my arms around me, taking my offered hand back as I tossed my hair behind me again. My grin only widened, and laughter bubbled up inside me, "As much fun as this is, Detective Rochester, I am quite pressed for time and I really must have a word with you immediately. Could we talk in your office perhaps?"

"Pressed for time?" Rochester repeated foolishly, squeaking slightly.

I smirked, "Yes. Very pressed."

The chief of police seemed to come to his senses and flew up to his feet in a rush, upsetting both his cup of coffee, which proceeded to spill all over the table top, and his donut, which fell with a slight clatter to the floor. He cried out in a strangled exclamation of surprise and tried to stop the destruction the coffee was wrecking on all the important looking papers, but really only succeeded in making it a lot worse. Rochester seemed shaken out his stupor by the desperate fumbling of his companion and he dove down to the ground after his fallen papers, shuffling them anxiously in his trembling fingers before jumping back up, straightening the tie of his smart black suit.

"Charlotte Johansson? Is that right?" he stuttered, frowning over his disarrayed papers.

The chief, having regained his breath from his exertions, pointed wildly at me, "It's her, the gal from the video! That Russian what's-his-name-"

Rochester cut him off before he started attracting attention, "John, let me handle this."

"B-But, the girl-" the chief mumbled in half a craze, still pointing his shaking finger at my face.

"John! I got it!" Rochester snapped testily, throwing the papers on the desk.

The chief instantly fell silent, struck dumb. I watched, endlessly amused, leaning back on my hips. The grin from before had yet to leave my lips and my eyebrows twitched with delight. Rochester took in a shaky breath, steadying himself with a hand on the desk. After a few moments, he raised himself back up, a determined and set look on his strong features.

He analyzed me carefully through his green eyes, throwing me a tight smile, "Well, Charlotte Johansson, I'm afraid that I must ask you to follow me quietly and to refrain from any form of escape. As a representative of the 37th precinct of Seattle, Washington, it is my duty to-"

I laughed lightly, a sound which startled the tense detective, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news detective, but I am not here to participate in a suspect inter-questioning. All I'm asking for is a private meeting with you." I grinned dangerously, "I'll make it worth your time."

Rochester frowned, his lips pulled down in a very disagreeable expression, "Ms. Johansson, I refuse to play games with you. You will follow me, and you will do so quietly."

I crossed my arms, letting out a puff of hair to blow my hair away from my face, "I can assure you, Mr. Rochester, that I am not playing any games. You really want to hear what I have to say."

Rochester caught onto the severity of my voice at the end. The middle-aged man raised a dark eyebrow, "Really? And why would I be interested?"

He had taken the bait, and now it was time to reel him in. I let the most devious of expressions take over my countenance, "Ever heard the name Makoto, detective?"

Rochester's clever eyes light up at the name, and an unrestrained knowing smirk twisted his lips. He nodded to the frozen and flabbergasted chief behind him, "John, if someone asks for me, tell them I am indisposed at the moment."

The chief made no gesture that he had understood Rochester's request, but the detective nodded firmly and, quickly retrieving his mess of papers from the desk, motioned me to follow him.

His office was clearly a temporary installation, due to the many boxes piled high all around the small enclosed space. A shiny laptop was propped open, and I could see that of the many open windows, one of them had the famous picture of my turned haughty face that had caused me so much trouble.

"If you would sit down, Ms. Johansson," Rochester pointed out an impressive looking leather chair, as he rifled through his papers, successfully finding a pen.

I slid down fluidly into the seat, allowing myself to delve in the luxury of the brown tanned leather, "Please, call me Charlotte."

Rochester's smile was somewhat strained, "I would prefer Ms. Johansson, if you wouldn't mind."

I blinked slowly, looking up at him through my eyelashes, "And I, detective, would prefer that you never use my last name. I have managed to keep it a secret my entire life and I would like very much to keep it that way."

Rochester paused, his eyes wide with surprise, "Oh."

"Charlotte would be just fine."

The detective cleared his throat as he took his seat, folding his hands very formally in front of him. His eyes all at once lost all trace of familiarity and his tone became brisk and business like, "Charlotte, you are the major suspect in the recent murder of Dmitri Raskovielsky. We have evidence to indicate that you were in contact with Raskovielsky the-"

I cut him off with a rueful smile, "I didn't kill Raskovielsky, so excuse me if we skip all that shit."

Rochester gaped at me, spluttering once again, "B-But-"

"First, before I say anything that might incriminate me, I want to be guaranteed complete immunity and I want my name erased as a suspect in the murder," I drawled lazily, flashing my white teeth.

Rochester stared for a moment before my words sunk in. His expression was tormented, and the curious frown of disappointment and confusion was on his brow again, "That is a lot to ask, Ms. Johansson-"

"Charlotte."

"Charlotte," he breathed in, pursing his lips, "That is a lot to ask. What can you promise me in return?"

I leaned in towards the desk with a reckless grin, "The greatest prize of your long and prestigious career."

-

The sun was falling from its dominant perch in the sky, giving way to the eerie navy of twilight. The rain had stopped long ago, and all the traces of it had been wiped off the darkening streets. I breathed softly into the air, a small imperceptible smile on my cold lips.

It was ready.

I was ready.

Finally, after a life of servitude to a cause I did not believe in, I was going to be free. Freedom, what that meant to me, I had yet to know. But the mere mention of the word sprouted quick flashes of brown eyes and a dimpled smile into my mind. I could almost feel his heated lips on mine. My eyes closed of their own accord, relishing the memory. The feeling that warmed me was unlike any other that I had ever felt, and I had yet to find any explanation for this inseparable bond that had formed between us from thin air.

Then, as if my thought had summoned him, Embry appeared, in all his glory, quickly crossing the small dirty street to stand by me. I held out my hand for him, allowing him to take in between his, warming my entire being. I looked up curiously at him, surprised to see a slightly anxious and nervous expression.

His voice was smooth, gentle, "Are you sure this will work?"

I nodded, "They meet tonight. They won't know what's waiting for them. I am their informant; it would be my job to warn them."

Embry shook his head, looking of worriedly into the fading horizon. "If they doubt you…" he trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

"My loyalty has never been questioned. My mother was the Red Butterfly; I have never known any other life."

He left out an impatient huff and turned towards me, grabbing my slim shoulders, his eyes bearing into me, "You don't have to do this. Please, let's just go. They know enough and we'll be safe in La Push, without having to worry about anything. I'll protect you-"

I cut him off with a soft chuckle, shaking my head, "Oh, Embry. I have to do this. You must understand that."

The boy dropped his arms, the worried look seeping into his eyes again, "Promise me you'll be careful."

Something howled in the distance, breaking the slowing hum of the city. I didn't even acknowledge the sound. "I will do what I have to do," I whispered, the words lingering on my lips.

Embry's hands trailed up my back swiftly, engulfing my body in fire as they moved, one wrapping itself around my waist, the other carefully resting at the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes, breathing lightly. He leaned in, resting his forehead on mine, his nose touching mine gently.

"You're not alone. I'll be right there if you need me."

The last fading drops of sunlight bathed our embracing figures in orange light.

My eyes still closed, I smiled, "I know."

-

The clock had run out. There was no time for me left.

I had made my choice, and now all I had left to do was fight for it.

The garage was just as it always was, a shabby aluminum structure that looked like the tiniest of breezes could knock it over. It was a familiar site, from its location in the very edge of the storage docks, to its rusting underside. This garage was the base of my entire life operation, and now I was back, a true Judas to my kind.

My last thoughts before I went in were not of Embry. They were of Lucy. Perfect little Lucy with her unabashed grin, her uncontained giggle, and her surprisingly wise words. She told me once, that it was our choices that made us who we truly are. And now I had made a choice. A choice to remove all blemishing stains of this life from her living.

And then, just before I stepped forward from my place in the shadows, an image caught in my head. It was most mundane, a domestic scene that would not be out of place in anyone's life.

It was my mother, Alice, her blonde hair twirling about her as she swung me around the kitchen, decked out in a blue apron. We were laughing. We were happy.

The laughter faded into the fast approaching night.

The clock had stopped.

It was my turn now.

-

I slammed the door open, letting the echo crash over the metal shell of the garage. I let myself fall back easily into Charlie, taking over her expressionless visage and cold demeanor.

Everyone was already there. I could see them all, the only time we were all allowed to meet together. Makoto, as always, lounged in his great leather chair behind the shining mahogany desk. Jason cast me a dark look under his long eyelashes from his languorous position on the wall. Derek made eye contact with me, which assured me I was safe, as of now.

Then, there were others: Julie, a misguided teenager, her body covered in angry piercings, and her dark hair a beehive of a mess; Ivan, an imposing man who demanded respect with his angry dark brow; Bryce was trembling slightly, a crazed look in his eyes - our dealer.

We five were the cornerstone of the operations. Without us, there was no Makoto.

"Charlie. You're late," Makoto sighed tiredly, his fingers playing idly with a gold feather.

Julie scoffed loudly, her petite curvy body saucily moving forward to rest on the edge of Derek's chair. But not a word came out of her lips. We knew that no matter how much we disagreed, we would not talk until Makoto allowed it.

I crossed my arms, throwing my hair over my shoulder, "I was taking care of things."

Ivan raised a heavy eyebrow.

Bryce laughed, a high pitched squeal that reminded me of a wild hyena. Makoto's normally disdainful expression was replaced by a wince as he curled his lips in disgust at the abnormally high pitched sound. Quickly passing over my words, Makoto dropped the subject, instead sighing as he passed his large hand over the pristine white papers carefully arranged on his desk.

"Derek," he prompted lazily.

Derek had his mouth open, about to talk, when I cut right through him. It good that it was him, that way, whatever happened, he would not be suspected. My dark chuckle wasn't even that loud, but in the ringing silence, it shook the entire enclosed space. Everyone turned to look at me.

"Oh no, Makoto, don't be so quick to turn from me. I'm not done with you yet," I drawled, flashing my teeth dangerously.

Jason pushed up from his position on the wall.

I sauntered forward, trailing my long fingers over the tips of the passing chairs, "Makoto, indulge me in this simple curiosity," I paused, allowing the words to sink in, "What is your real name?"

Julie let out a startled gasp, her young eyes wide with horror and racing thrill. But my ice blue eyes were on Makoto, and I relished in the way that the man who had ruled my life and my mother's life looked utterly shocked. He was staring at me, startled to the very core at my audacity that I should even direct a statement towards him, let alone ask such a question.

I passed my eyes over him, "Oh, no name? What a pity," I quickly turned my eyes back onto him in a sidelong glaze, "Because I could have sworn that your real name, the one your dear parents gave you before you ran away from your Tokyo home to join the Yakuza, was Hiro Miomichi."

The temperature in the room fell as everyone held their breath, hardly daring to believe I had dared to state what could not be stated.

I laughed, holding my arms up, "Don't be so surprised, Hiro! I am the informant. I am the negotiator. My job is to know things others cannot possibly know."

It was starting to rain again, I could tell from the mute splattering of the rain on the aluminum roof. For the first time in my life, I felt powerful, unrestrained. Electricity coursed through the air. Nothing, no one, could stop me.

"But," I started again, chewing thoughtfully, "the Yakuza didn't like you that much, right, Hiro? In fact, they hated you, didn't they? Well, I don't blame them. I would too if you kept way more than your fair share of the earnings."

I twirled around, a sly smile curving my lips, "Oh wait. You do."

Makoto had yet to say a word. His mouth was opening and closing like some sort of gaping fish, and his sharp beady eyes staring dumbly. The rain drummed viciously above our heads, drowning all other sounds in a torrent of metal clanging.

"I guess you have always been a coward, haven't you? You ran away from home, and then you ran away from the Yakuza. To bad you wouldn't have made it through a normal life. A bit too greedy for that, and too addicted to power," I shook my head ruefully.

I paused, sighing leisurely, running my fingers through my hair. My voice, which had been light and carefree before, now rang with a darker tone, a menacing lace of anger behind it all. "I have one more question, Hiro, if I may," a draft of cold air ruffled my wild hair, and my eyes were chips of ice, "My mother. Why did you kill her? Why did you kill the Red Butterfly?"

The Japanese man seemed to finally come to his senses, though his accented voice shook slightly, "What happened to the Red Butterfly could not be prevented."

I laughed, almost hysterically, "Why the fuck does everyone always say that? It must be a fucking motto or something," I tutted, "No, I asked you a question. Why did you kill the Red Butterfly?"

Jason's hawk eyes had darkened to a near black, his hand itching toward the gun at his back. He knew. And I knew that he knew.

Makoto swallowed heavily, tugging at the high collar of his crisp white suit, "I didn't kill the Red Butterfly."

My self-control snapped and I snarled loudly, banging both of my fists loudly on the mahogany table. The papers took flight, scattering everywhere, "_Don't fucking lie to me, you son of a bitch!_" I roared, shaking savagely, "You knew Veronica was after her. You knew Veronica would kill her. _And you didn't lift a fucking finger, did you_? _DID YOU_!"

The words echoed loudly in the tense silence. Jason had frozen, a pallor taking over his features, his tongue darted out to lick his thin lips. My face was flushed, my teeth were bared, and I tightened my fist as I closed my eyes, cracking my neck, trying to regain control.

"You fucking pathetic coward," I spoke in a deadly whisper, "You could have saved her, but you really didn't give a fuck, did you? All you had to do was offer Veronica a compensation. But you couldn't even do that. You fucking bastard."

I threw myself away from the desk, not bothering to glance behind me as I made my way to the door. My steps were sure and for the first time in my life I knew that what I was doing was the right thing. I had enough of this shit and this fucking filth all around me. I was ready to move on, to leave this all behind.

My last words were a casual wave, "Good bye, Hiro Miomichi."

The police broke down the door in dramatic fashion, outfitted in the suits of the SWAT team. There were others dropping from the roof, more men and women, armed to their teeth. Another team, which Rochester had positioned behind the garage, was busy welding an opening into the metal frame.

There was no way out.

I could hear the chaos, but I refused to look over my shoulder. Ivan would be fighting, he would resist them as long as he could – with his record, capture meant prison for life. Bryce was crying out hysterically, in the manner so characteristic of a drug dealer. I would imagine Julie would have instantly surrendered, with her power of seduction, she would find a way out eventually, sooner more than later.

I had been clear with Rochester – Derek was not to be harmed. For all that Derek had been part of the gang, for all that he had helped out in so many murders, for all of his questionable womanizing habits, he was still my friend. Derek had been my only friend, the only one who could truly understand what I went through everyday. Rochester would make sure that he was recommended to a government agency for his technological skills; that had been part of the bargain. I wanted a new life for Derek. I had made the same mistakes as him, and just like I had gotten another chance by some blunder of fate, he would too.

The second I stepped out into the pouring rain, muting the sounds of blaring sirens, I felt free. The dark night sky was blurred with the falling rain, and my hair and face were almost instantly drenched.

I smiled.

I grinned.

I was free.

And then, something hit me in the back, tripping up my stride and causing me to splatter to the ground, striking the concrete hard. I cried out, surprised. Another blow to my legs made me wince in pain. I scrambled to get away, my hands slipping on the wet concrete, ripping off a layer of skin. This time, the foot hit me in the side, and if it hadn't been for my quick reflexes, I was sure that I would have broken ribs. Quickly regaining my sense, I flipped over, just in time to stop Jason's well aimed fist from colliding with my face.

"It's over Jason!" I bit out, swinging out my feet, forcing him to back away.

His laugh was inhumane, "That's what they all say!"

My hands were bleeding, but I managed to stand to my feet, quickly raising my arms in defense. Jason was hunched over, his chest rising rapidly with his heavy breathing, and his eyes glittering murderously.

I knew my voice was hoarse, "Why must it always end in blood? Why?"

We were circling each other now, my posture weary, ready for any attack, my mind racing. If he had a gun, one neat little shot and I would be dead instantly. I had to keep him distracted, I had to keep him talking. The night was dark, and I could barely make out his figure. The lights and sirens of the police seemed so far away.

"Always so innocent, Charlie. Always so naïve," he spit out the word as if it were a curse.

The lights and sirens of the police seemed so far away, barely audible over the barreling thunder and the crash of lighting.

"Please Jason, you are my brother," I attempted, my words sounding helpless to my own ears.

His earsplitting laugher made my stomach tighten in fear, "Oh, I am much more than your brother, little Charlie."

I kept my eyes fixed on him, not understanding. There had to be a way to escape. But if he still had his gun…any sudden movement and then, no more.

He smiled as if he had just tasted something delicious, "You don't know, do you, little Charlie?"

"Know what?" I frowned, trying to ignore the shaking, the need that was taking over my body. I felt weak all the sudden, withdrawal quickly shutting down all my systems. I needed a pill. I needed to think straight.

His eyes flashed and I knew at once that he had seen my weakness, "You have a tattoo on your back to remember your fucking mother and you don't have any idea, do you?"

I shouted in frustration, "God damnit all, Jason! What the hell are you talking about?"

Thunder resounded through the dark night, managing to make itself heard over the pelting rain.

"Veronica was the Red Butterfly's sister."

I heard screaming, horrible enraged cries of pure pain. I looked for the person, trying to find them in the bitter dark. And then I realized it was me. I was screaming.

There was a flash, and all I saw was Jason. His feral grin, the wicked and half-mad gleam in his eyes.

"Good bye, little sister."

There was no way I could move. There was no way I could escape the swift blade he threw from his deft fingers towards me. The blade was long and lethal, glinting a quicksilver with the reflection from the flickering lamps in the darkness. The aim was true.

And there was nowhere to run.

It was the trap that had caged me my entire life. I was born into this life of drugs, murder and violence. And there was no escape. I had deluded myself to think I could hope for freedom, but all along it had been a cruel joke.

I couldn't run.

There was nowhere to run.

* * *

_Gasp! Will this be the end of Charlotte? Will Embry have to live the rest of his days alone? Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see! _

_Now, please drop me off a review. There are _83 people_ who have this on their alerts – I know! So exciting! – and I want to hear what you all think! I'll respond, and don't be to harsh for me on this cliffy…you know you love me. ;)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	28. The Fast and the Furious 11

**Chapter 11**  
The Fast and the Furious

* * *

"_Good bye, little sister."_

_There was no way I could move. There was no way I could escape the swift blade he threw from his deft fingers towards me. The blade was long and lethal, glinting a quicksilver with the reflection from the flickering lamps in the darkness. The aim was true._

_And there was nowhere to run._

_It was the trap that had caged me my entire life. I was born into this life of drugs, murder and violence. And there was no escape. I had deluded myself to think I could hope for freedom, but all along it had been a cruel joke. I couldn't run._

_There was nowhere to run._

* * *

The knife went in deep, piercing my skin, which seemed so supple now. It was as easy as a knife going through soft melted butter. My skin, my muscle, my bones. They were nothing, nothing but the softest of butter.

A part of me was surprised, shocked. It was odd, to see the great knife protruding from my torso, buried in a growing circle of crimson blood. The other part of me was calm, almost numb. My blood was still screaming for the drug but my body, that had been shaking uncontrollably, stilled as soon as the knife carved its way through my tall lithe body. It hurt, a tearing pain that ripped through my blood, lighting it on fire. But I remained calm. The pain was almost too great, so great that it overpowered my entire system, numbing my mind.

Then, amiss the rain, the crashing thunder, and the inky blackness, I saw a great wolf, a bear almost, leap over me, crashing into Jason with the most horribly heart-wrenching growl of rage. There was a fight - that I could be sure of. I could hear the movements of the great animal, Jason's insane laughter fill the air. My eyes strained against the black, against the sheets of falling rain, but there was another darkness that was coming over me. Black spots before my eyes, a dull throbbing ache in my head.

I couldn't see. I couldn't move.

I fell slowly, my entire body crumpling. There was no sound, only a muted ringing. It was as if everything had slowed down, slowing with the beat of my heart. The raindrops splattered on my paling face, curving into my open mouth, mingling with the blood that was seeping out with my hacking cough.

There was so much noise, so much muted noise. The growling. The ripping. The laughing. The screaming. And then, a gunshot, a horrible cracking sound that shook the air, and silence.

Horrible silence. I couldn't even tell if it was my hearing that had failed, or if the world had really fallen quiet around me. But I couldn't move, my mind couldn't control my appendages, so I couldn't lift to see if the commotion was done.

There was something right above me.

I strained with my deteriorating eyesight to make it out in the pressing night. A head. It was an enormous head. What I had thought of as a bear before was definitely a wolf. A great and monstrous wolf, but a wolf all the same.

I must have been hallucinating, because right before me, the great wolf head began to shake. The snout shortened, the ears shifted. Everything was changing, right before my eyes. And just like that, the great wolf was gone, replaced by Embry.

My Embry.

He was crying, I could see that even though I couldn't hear it. His brown eyes were shaking with fear, anger and the most uncontrollable sadness I had ever seen. The rain mingled with his tears on his face so that it seemed almost as if the earth was crying with him as well.

He was yelling something, running his hands over me, ripping open my shirt to find the spot that was drowning the street in my blood. I didn't really understand why he was yelling, why he was holding his head as if he would burst into a thousand pieces at the sight of the great knife. Really, there was no pain. I couldn't feel anything. Only a light humming at the back of my brain, a dull ache that would soon be gone.

He was still crying, holding my face tightly between his great warm hands, a pleading in his eyes that had so enthralled me from the beginning.

My lips moved by themselves, forming a word through the blood that covered them, "Embry."

He started at the word, grasping me tighter, holding me to him as if that would make a difference. His lips were everywhere, on my forehead, on my cheek. He was whispering something into my ear, which I though was funny, because, really, I couldn't hear anything.

I tried to laugh, but the only thing that came out was a broken, violent cough which brought up more blood to my mouth, draining down my chin with the rain.

He was yelling again, yelling to the heavens above us, yelling so hard that his very soul seemed to break. I wanted to shake my head at his silly antics, but I found I couldn't. The nice numbing was covering my body, my eyelids were closing of their own accord and my only regret was that I could no longer see his beautiful face anymore.

"Embry," I choked the word out again.

I felt his trembling kiss on my forehead.

I smiled.

And then, I felt no more.

-

A steady beeping.

That was the first thing I heard.

It was an obnoxious sound in my ears, and I felt my muscles tense up. I gritted my teeth, thoroughly annoyed at the noise and wanting nothing more than for it to be silenced. And then I realized what the sound meant: I didn't know where I was, because at my house, there was no obnoxious beeping.

I opened my eyes, slowly and carefully. I never got caught unaware – I had to know where I was and do a quick analysis on my surroundings, outlining all possible escape routes before I could give away the element of surprise.

White. Ugly pasty white all around me. The lights right above me were strong, hurting my eyes in their intensity. It was as if I was drowning in a sea of white. I opened my eyes wider. And I saw him.

There was a couch to the left of where I was positioned, and draped over the couch was Embry. My Embry. Before I could help it, a small smile spread over my face. He looked adorable. His mouth was open, and I could hear his loud snores from where I sat. His hair was in a state of complete and utter disarray, and his one his hand was touching the floor. Clearly, the couch was a little too small for his large frame.

I frowned. Confused as to why we were both in this odd white room. I looked to my right, and immediately wished I hadn't. All the instruments clearly gave away where I was. There was the machine that beeped, a heart monitor. There was a IV, a bag full of blood delivering it straight into a small hole in the underside of my arm. There was a tray, fully of surgically clean items, along with a small glass of water and a few wildflowers.

I was in a hospital.

I instantly tried to get up, feeling the insurmountable need to escape. I couldn't go to a hospital. No one could know my name, no one could know what I did. I had to protect Lucy.

But as soon as I tried to get up, a splitting pain shot through me, causing me to cry out, for all that I tried to hold it in. My chest burned, a searing ache that drew all the strength from me and threw me back into the pillow behind my head, writhing in agony. My eyes were open as I wildly tried to find the source of the pain. I looked down, down at the many bandages wrapped around my torso.

My torso, wrapped tight in white bandages.

And all the events, all the last few days, came running back to me, almost knocking the wind out of me. I saw the knife. I saw the raining sky. I saw Embry, crying, yelling. I saw Jason, the gleam of insanity in his wild, murderous eyes.

Oh god.

Embry fell out of the couch when he heard my heart monitor speed up to an alarming rate, his bleary eyes shooting open. We met for a second, my eyes panicked, scared, stunned. He flew to his feet, yelling for someone to come quick. He stumbled over to me, trying avidly to help.

And then, my heart monitor reached a startling peak. Because I had remember what had happened last night. Embry.

Embry had turned into a wolf the size of a bear.

Embry reached over, trying to grab my hand as a means of comfort, his eyes flickering anxiously from my heart monitor to the door. He tried to smile, but the smile really didn't reach his worried and almost panicked eyes. His hand rested on mine.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered softly.

I threw him off with a vicious snarl, ignoring the burning pain that shot through me, "Don't touch me."

He was startled by my sudden change, but he looked resolute. He hushed me softly, speaking slowly, "Charlotte, you're okay. Everything is alright. It's me, Embry."

I almost laughed at his patronizing tone, "Don't fuck around with me, Embry. Where is Lucy?"

My heart monitor was still beeping at an alarming rate, and this caused Embry to glance worriedly at the door. His eyes were hesitant when he answered me, "She's safe. She and Rose are with Emily – that's Sam's fiancée."

"Who the fuck is Sam?" I thrashed, feeling myself building with anger, with absolute desperation that I was not in control.

Embry hesitated, and that was all I need to confirm my fears. "She's safe," he breathed, cool.

He reached out slowly, as if trying to calm me. I slapped his hand away viciously, gritting my teeth at the blinding pain, "I said: _Don't fucking touch me!_"

Embry looked hurt. He drew back his hand, his eyes locked with mine.

I kept on going, "You promised me you wouldn't lie, Embry. _You promised me. _So much for that, right, Embry? _Everyone fucking lies,_" my voice sounded hysterical now, my heart monitor was almost a continuous single beep, "_You turn into a goddamn WOLF!_ _A huge, monstrous wolf! A WOLF! When do you think you were going to tell about that, Embry? WHEN?_"

I fell silent, a shortness of breath causing me to choke slightly, a hacking cough making its way out of my throat. Embry rushed to me, but I held him off by lifting my hand.

"I trusted you, Embry."

He fell to his knees, his eyes now level with mine. His voice was hoarse. With his face so near, I noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes, and realized that he must have gotten no sleep in the past few days.

"Charlotte, I never lied to you. Never. I meant every word I ever said," he took in a deep breath, "I'm a werewolf, Charlotte. I can turn into a wolf. I should have told you, so many times. But I was afraid," he locked eyes with me, "I was afraid that you would run away and I would never be able to find you again. I'm sorry. I should have told you. I should have done so many things…" he looked pained now.

I sat, immobile. I could scarcely even breathe.

A werewolf. Embry was a werewolf.

My immediate first reaction would have been to laugh cruelly in his face; werewolves aren't real. But I had seen him. I had seen the wolf. I had seen him transform. The familiar numbness of denial swept through me.

"No. Don't lie, Embry. Don't lie," I hissed, holding the covers of my bed tightly in my fists.

I always prided myself in my ability to detect a lie, and Embry wasn't lying.

"I'm a werewolf, Charlotte. I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly.

I turned my face away from him, still clutching at the covers like a little girl who is frightened at the dark because of what unknowns might be hidden in it. I heard Embry get up, though he had always been so quiet with his movements. Still, I kept my face from him, refusing to look at him. Refusing to acknowledge him. No. He was lying. He couldn't be a werewolf. Not my Embry, not the one person I had come to trust. He couldn't have kept that from me. He had promised to be there for me, always.

"I'll understand if you never want to see me again," his voice held no emotion, "I'll have someone bring Lucy to you by tonight."

He had promised to be there for me.

My mind flashed to the image of Embry, crying, yelling, whispering in the rain. I had almost died. I had almost died alone, in the rain, behind some storage compartments at the Seattle docks. But Embry hadn't let me die alone. He hadn't let me die.

He had promised to be there for me, always.

I turned my head quickly, and saw that Embry was already at the door, his large hand resting on the doorknob. He was crumpled over in utter defeat. I felt my soul constrict, the last thing I ever wanted was to cause Embry, beautiful Embry, any pain. Embry made me feel, Embry made me unafraid of who I could be. There was something about Embry that I couldn't describe. All I knew is that I couldn't live without him. And that I would die if that would make him happy.

"Wait. Wait!" I choked out, trying to lean forward.

Embry froze, his features carefully guarded as he gazed back at me. I must have been a sight, desperately trying to lean further towards him, fighting the restrains that held me back.

My voice was so very small, "Please don't go."

He rushed back to me faster than I would have thought humanly possible, enveloping me in a huge hug. I winced at the pressure on my wound, and tried to fight the black dots that started covering my vision. Embry immediately drew back at hearing my wince.

"Charlotte! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Are you still with me? Charlotte?" he hovered over me worriedly, slightly panicking.

I laughed, a true genuine laugh, "I'm fine, Embry. I'm fine," I looked up at him, my features softening, "As long as you are with me, I'll be fine."

Where our first kiss had been raw passion bursting free, this kiss was gentle, reminiscent of the soft touch of butterfly wings. He was careful with me, brushing my lips ever so tenderly, his hands a warming feather touch on the back of my neck. I don't think we would have ever pulled apart, if not for the sudden bursting of the door.

"Mr. Call, I'm going to need to take a look at our patient now," a friendly voice spoke up, lilting with a light accent.

Embry released me, his eyes smiling with me as he moved back, giving me a full view of my doctor. My first thought on this doctor was that he was undeniably the most attractive person I had ever seen in my life. He couldn't have been over thirty. With his blonde hair, his statuesque body and his molten gold eyes, he certainly was a sight to behold. And yet, for all his beauty, there was something about him that, with my attuned instincts, flashed red with warning and danger. Embry had stiffened beside me, and though he was attempting a smile as best he could, I grew instantly weary of this strange doctor.

"Now," the doctor began with a calming smile, "How are we feeling, Ms. Johansson?"

My voice was cold, "It's Charlotte."

The doctor's smile didn't break, "Charlotte, then. I'm Dr. Cullen."

I said nothing, unable to shake off the feeling that told me to run, run fast and never look back.

Dr. Cullen was talking, his soothing voice cheerful while he checked all the appliances methodically, "You're a very strong young woman, Charlotte, everything seems to be in order and I imagine we'll have you out of here in no time."

"How soon?" I interrupted.

Dr. Cullen chuckled lightly, "Eager to get out of bed?"

I couldn't help but grin at this, "Yes. More than ever."

He flipped through the papers on his neat clipboard, "I'd say you'll be free to go in three days."

"Three days?!" I burst out.

Dr. Cullen just shook his head warmly, "We need to be able to check to make sure your condition is stable; we want to make sure everything is alright. You almost didn't make it, and if it hadn't been for Mr. Call's surprising speed in bringing you to us, I very much doubt you'd be here now. Therefore, I'm going to have to insist on three days, and physical therapy for your punctured lung."

I adopted the expressionless face of icy indifference that was so easy to Charlie, "I don't believe I will need any physical therapy, Dr. Cullen."

The blonde doctor smiled, "You're an unusual girl, Charlotte."

My curiosity won out, "What are the damages, Dr. Cullen?"

He didn't need to flip through his clipboard, "The wound punctured your lung and broke a few of your ribs." his compassionate golden eyes meet mine, "As much as I hate to say this, Charlotte, your body's addiction to methamphetamine did in fact save your life: if it hadn't been for the shaking of your body, the knife would have pierced your heart. Furthermore, the withdrawal symptoms you were experiencing at the moment of the accident shut down your systems quite effectively and reduced your blood loss. Count yourself a very lucky young woman."

With one final nod at Embry, Dr. Cullen proceeded out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. My eyes instantly sought out Embry, and I felt a smile quirk at my lips.

"You're falling asleep on your feet," I commented, grinning up at him.

Embry rolled his eyes and took a seat on the edge of my bed, brushing the long strands of blonde hair gently out of my face, "I'm fine."

The perpetual warmth of his body calmed my system. We fell into a comfortable silence, and I felt my mind drifting once more into sleep. "Embry, thank you for saving my life," I yawned, wishing I could be held in his strong arms.

His voice, when he answered, was strained, "Charlotte, there is something I need to tell you."

I opened one eye, peering at him from under my eyelashes, "Can it wait?"

Embry gave a great sigh that sounded surprisingly like a laugh. "No. It can't wait," he finished heavily, his brow creasing severely.

I looked up at him expectantly.

"Jason is dead."

The whiteness of the room was glaring. It was all absorbing. And just like it seemed too white to be true, Jason's death rang as an oddity, a feat that could not be accomplished. Jason, the child of my father's other relationship, the son of my mother's sister. Jason. Dead. He just couldn't be. Jason with his all-consuming bloodlust, with his merciless laugh, with his dark soul and mad gleam, could not possibly be dead.

Embry was pressing on, his eyes searching my face for any sign of what I could be thinking, "He had a gun with him. I couldn't stop him…hell, I don't know if I would have stopped him," he exclaimed, running a hand through his short black hair, "He tried to kill me…the shot rang off – it hit him through the head. There was no way he could have been saved; he died instantly."

My knuckles were white under the strength of my fists. My voice was a deep, heartless hiss, "Good."

And it was. I wasn't going to pretend that Jason's death had caused me even a twinge of pain. I had never cared for Jason. I had hated Jason, the brother I could have had, but never did. He had been a threat to my life from the very beginning. He had been a threat to Lucy. No. I wasn't sorry he was dead. The only sadness I felt was that he could not have been saved. I would have saved Jason, but he was too far gone. No one could have saved him. Perhaps now, in death, he had found some measure of peace for his insanity.

Embry murmured quietly, "No one deserves to die, Charlotte."

I turned to him, "No, no one deserves to die. But Jason didn't deserve to live."

He seemed to understand this, or at least understand enough to let it go. I smiled at him, and started to close my eyes once more when I heard his playful baritone voice break the lulling silence once more.

"There's something else before you go to sleep," he smiled, ruffling my hair.

I glared up at him, running a hand through my hair to smooth it back down, "Well, then, be quick about it. I'm tired."

He laughed, winking at me, "Alright, I'll be quick."

I'll always remember that moment. That perfect moment when he leaned forward, brushing my cheek with his warm lips, trailing a path to my ear. I closed my eyes, having trouble breathing with his lips so close, and yet so far. I could imagine his brown eyes flashing wickedly as he heard my heart's rate speed up, the sinful grin, complete with dimpled cheeks.

It was a mere whisper in my ear, "About werewolves: there is something called imprinting...when we meet our true love. And after we see her, we never let go. You see, werewolves have soul mates…"

He pulled back, locking his eyes with mine. The world seemed to stand still, holding its breath for his next words.

"…And you're mine."

As we closed the space between us, I felt a wild smile curve my lips. Embry Call. Embry. My Embry.

He promised to be there for me.

And I vowed to be there for him.

Always.

* * *

_And there we have it. The Fast and the Furious, in all its controversy and darkness, has finally come to an end. All that's left is an epilogue in Embry's point of view, and we are off down a different path. _

_Oh, and I wanted to make a quick disclaimer: apparently, there was a line in chapter 7 that was actually part of song by Anna Na__lick__. So, all credit goes to her._

"_Now, who wants a cookie?" Kudos to those of you who can tell me where that quote is from! :)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**. **


	29. Epilogue: TFatF

**Epilogue  
**The Fast and the Furious

* * *

"Embry!" Lucy swung her tiny little arms haphazardly, effectively knocking her bowl of cereal to the ground. The blonde girl giggled as the milk spread on the kitchen floor, the brightly colored lucky charms swimming along in the white river.

She looked up at me through her eyelashes, incapable of stemming her laughter, "Oopsie."

I laughed, catching her in my arms and swinging her around me, "Little Lucy! What shall I do with you," I stopped swinging her, and raised a funky eyebrow, "Maybe we can feed you to Quil – he's always hungry."

Lucy screeched in laughter, trying to fight off my grip on her, "No! NOO! Don't be silly, Embry! Quil doesn't eat people!"

I chuckled, trying to keep what I hoped was a serious expression on my face, "Really? Hm…I wonder where Claire could be then…I could have sworn I heard Quil say something about lunch…"

Lucy's bright blue eyes grew as big as saucers. Her mouth formed a little gasp of dread, "He wouldn't."

Her mannerism and her words were so reminiscent of Charlotte that I couldn't help but grin at this little girl, "Are we sure about that, Ms. Lucy?"

Before I could say anything else, the toddler squirmed out of my grip, landing in the milk puddle that was now seeping into the tight corners of our small kitchen. She let out a shriek and picked up her little blue summer dress around her, running out of the kitchen in a hurry.

"Claire! CLAAAAIIIIIRRRE!" I could hear her voice, amazingly loud for a girl her size.

I leaned over the counter when I heard the main door to the tiny house swing open, admitting a proper little Claire all done up in her primp red flower dress and a beaming Quil. Claire was talking, a look of utter superiority that I could have sworn she picked up from watching Charlotte on her features, but she instantly shut her mouth when Lucy barreled into her, knocking her off her feet and into the floor.

"CLAIRE! YOU'VE ALIVE! Yay!" Lucy grinning unabashed, hugging her best friend happily.

But what really got me was when easy-going Lucy stood up, her face scrunched up in a frown, marched over to an amused Quil and promptly slapped his leg, the nearest part of him that she could reach.

She glared up at him, "Eating people is bad, Quil."

At Quil's look of complete surprise, I couldn't help myself, I hooted loudly in laughter, almost falling to the floor when my arms slipped on the smooth countertop. Quil cast me an exasperated look through his wry smile before leaning down to help Claire to her feet. I shook my head, and decided that I might as well start cleaning up the mess of the hour our Lucy had wrecked for breakfast.

It was funny to think that only two years ago I had just been Embry Call: friend of Jacob and Quil, werewolf extraordinaire and a happy bachelor.

The mop almost decapitated me when I opened the small closet that held all the cleaning supplies, but I managed to catch it, and promptly set about cleaning up the floor and the river of lucky charms that was quickly turning the milk blue.

Everything had changed that one day. The day I had met her. Her. Charlotte. My imprint. I had to admit, the first thought that had crossed my mind - before I had even had a good look at her, before I even knew that she was destined as the other half of me – my first thought had been that _she was hot_. Smokin' hot. With her long blonde hair, her sharp blue eyes, her tall, shapely body and long legs there was nothing about Charlotte not to like.

And then, just when I go and make a complete fool of myself by pulling out the cheesiest pick up lines in my arsenal, I meet her eyes. And then that was it for me. The world shifted, all that jazz and BAM – its Charlotte, and nothing else.

It was not an easy imprint. Charlotte had enough problems of her own without me adding the fact that "Hey, I turn into a furry wolf the size of a bear! Nothing to worry about, really, just the fact that I destroy vampires for a living! Okay?" Yeah. With Charlotte's hard attitude and the agility she had to slip into that cold-hearted Charlie, I would be sent packing.

I turned on the sink, running the mop underneath it, trying to get out all the different rainbows and horseshoes out of the tangles. A grimace of disgust pulled at my lips when I found a half-melted clover in the mass.

It was funny really, imprinting. Whoever was in charge of picking out these imprints certainly had a twisted sense of humor. First there is Sam, who imprints on his high school sweetheart's cousin. Then, there is easy-going, popular and funny Jared, who imprints of his own personal stalker. Quil goes and falls for little two year old Claire. And then me. Embry Call, laidback Embry Call, goes and imprints on a girl who was born into the most notorious Seattle mob. Someone up there certainly has a funky and slightly warped sense of humor.

Quil strolled into the kitchen, a small smile on his face as he forced his eyes away from the two little girls who were playing in the living room. He reached over and patted me on the back, "So, where's the lady of the house?"

I turned off the sink and shoved the mop back into the closet, "If you mean Rose, she went for a walk with Billy Black."

Quil guffawed, raising his eyebrows, "I didn't know the old man still had it in him."

"Don't let him hear you say that," I warned, jumping onto the table and shoving a muffin that happened to be lying around into my mouth.

Quil followed suit, taking another muffin, "I meant Charlotte: is she still at her therapy?"

I nodded, smiling happily at the mention of her name, "Yeah, this is her last meeting. She's been clean for over four months. After this, her methamphetamine addiction is officially and medically done."

Quil raised his eyebrows and nodded, "Nice. It's almost been two years now, right? That's impressive. Meth's pretty bad."

I grinned, feeling maybe a little too proud of Charlotte's quick break with the drug. Quil, looking very satisfied with the first muffin, reached over and took another one.

"So, what did Claire's parent's say? Can she stay?" I asked, leaning back, with my arms crossed behind my head.

An uncontrollable grin of happiness covered Quil, "They said its okay. I could hardly believe it – two weeks. Two weeks with Claire full-time!"

I rolled my eyes playfully, "Sounds like a hot date."

Quil growled and chucked a bottle of chocolate mix at my head, "Idiot," I easily avoided the bottle and he went on, "I didn't think they would let me – you know how her dad is. I guess it helps that we're practically a boarding house in here anyways. And that Rose lives here. I mean, really, I don't even know how we fit in such a small house. There's you, me, Rose, Charlotte and Lucy. Thank god you and Charlotte sleep together or we wouldn't have enough space."

I winked at him, grinning slyly. "You hoping dearest little proper Claire will join you in your bed?" I joked – tormenting Quil because of Claire's age was one of my favorite pastimes.

"You're disgusting," Quil grimaced, gagging slightly, "Lucy was practically beside herself when she found out that it's gonna be a sleepover for two weeks, I doubt she's going to calm down anytime soon…"

Right on cue, Lucy flew into the room, her blonde hair falling out of her pigtails as her blue dress twirled around her. She squealed happily, grabbing onto leg as she hid behind it.

"Claaaiiirre!" she giggled furiously.

Claire did not run into the room, but walked in, her serious face for once showing a small smile, "That's cheating, Lucy. You know that wasn't allowed in the rules."

Lucy let go of my leg and tumbled to the floor, making a face, "I hate rules!"

Claire raised an eyebrow in the imperious way only she was capable of. "We made the rules, Lucy, so that we would be able to play a game and both take out equal fun from it. Rules are necessary," she finished with a curt nod, her vocabulary, as always, completely throwing me off.

Lucy whined, pulling at her blue dress. "Claaaaaire!" she drew out the 'a' sound.

Claire huffed, and crossed her arms, "Okay. Let's play something else."

The blonde girl at my feet instantly brightened, shooting up quickly to join the other girl, "Ohhh! Let's play hide and go seek with Quil and Embry!"

I turned to look at Quil, who looked just as terrified as I did. It had been done before, and let me tell you: hide and go seek with these two little heathens was possibly the worst form of torture that I could imagine.

But serious and proper Claire had squealed at the mention of her favorite game, clapping her hands excitedly, "YES! I love that game!"

We were doomed.

And, then, just when I though it was all over – Quil was trying his hardest to smile at his Claire, but I knew that he was calculating how mad Rose would get if he jumped through the window – my salvation arrived with an opening of the door.

Charlotte strode into the kitchen, her white jacket wrapped loosely around her dark blue t-shirt and skinny jeans. She was smiling at the, now bouncing, two little girls. And then, she turned to me. A smirk curved up her lips as she stalked towards me.

She leaned in, her bright eyes laughing as she rested her hands on my shoulders, "How was you day, Embry Call?"

I grinned ruefully, quickly taking command by drawing her onto my lap and wrapping my arms around her, "Well, soon-to-be Charlotte Call, I have to say that my day was fantastic…though it was missing one small thing."

She raised an eyebrow, "Really? And what would that be?"

Our noises touched as I leaned forward, "You."

Yes, so maybe the person in charge of assigning imprints was a whack job.

But they certainly had a devoted follower in me for giving me Charlotte.

* * *

_Parting is such sweet sorrow! But, it must be done. Claire and Lucy were just too cute for me to resist writing about them! :) So. On the horizon: Jacob is up next! Followed closely by our dearest temperamental Paul. Lots more fun and games to come!_

_So, as of now, who would you take: Embry, or Jared? ;)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	30. Interlude II

The Newtonian Laws of Gravity

_Imprinting. "It's so hard to describe. It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like gravity moves. When you see her suddenly it's not the earth holding you there anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her." (p. 176)_

* * *

INTERLUDE

_The Fast and the Furious_, with that slight touch of Embry's bright look into the future at the end, is now officially complete. Done.

It was a very different story from _The Actor and the Spectator_, and certainly much darker and twisted than what I am used to writing. Many of you were hesitant about Charlie and her bad decisions at the beginning, but, we got over it eventually, and now here we are the end, with lots of dedicated Embry fans. Then again, what is there not to like about our dimple-smile goofball?

We are going to have to keep moving along, down the path of single werewolf men, and next up we have our tragic, yet so good, the one and only Jacob Black. This story will be titled _The Lost and the Found_.

Now, this time, we're going to try something different. Don't worry; we're not going to make his imprint a mafia queen. I said at the beginning that I would be writing all stories from the point of view of the imprint. However, I am going to deviate from that just for this story. Instead of writing another story in the first point of view, which, in my opinion can get very exhausting, we're going to have a third person point of view! I know, very exciting! That way, we'll be able to follow the story from Jacob's side as well, seeing as his side is very important in the piece I have planned.

There is some important background information about _The Lost and the Found_. First off, as a tentative time line, let us say that Embry's imprinting happened during the events Eclipse, in the time gap that existed between the battle and when Jacob got his invitation. So. Ideally, Jacob left after the invitation, and for the sake of this story, has been gone for three years because of Bella. At the start of this story, we're going to say that he just got back from his three year run.

Got it? Are we ready for action then? Good! Hang on tight!

* * *

SURVEY

I'm starting to think that these surveys might become a typical thing to put up during the interludes for my curiosity. So, as we will be embarking in a Jacob adventure, here is the question I have for all of you:

_Do you think that Jacob Black will imprint during the events of Breaking Dawn?_  
a) Yes.  
b) No.  
c) You have your own personal opinion on what will happen to the werewolf (in which case, please share!)

Thanks a bunch, fruitloops! Read and enjoy!

* * *

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	31. The Lost and the Found 1

**Series:** The Newtonian Laws of Gravity**  
Title:** The Lost and the Found**  
Rating:** T**  
Characters:** Jacob/OC**  
Poem: **_Stargirl – _Jerry Spinelli**  
Disclaimer:** _Twilight_ belongs exclusively to Ms. Meyer; I only borrow her characters for my own amusement. The only Jacob I own is a stuffed plushy.

* * *

"_**S**__he was elusive,_

_She was today._

_She was tomorrow._

_She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower,_

_The flitting shadow of an elf owl._

_In our minds, we tried to pin her to the corkboard like a butterfly._

_But the pin merely went through_

…_and away she flew__**."**_

* * *

I

Jacob had taken up staring.

It was an art. A carefully attuned science which, in Jacob's honest opinion, required a lot of practice and training.

He had many subjects. The ceiling of his bedroom. The TV. The small hole in the living room carpet. The white wooden cabinet with the small red splotch in the kitchen. Just to name a few.

There were people that thought it bordered on unhealthy. Billy Black, for one, had come to the conclusions that it made him nervous. In fact, there were no guns, no knives or any sharp objects left unattended in the Black Household. Billy Black had seen to that.

Jacob thought all those precautions slightly unnecessary.

Sam Uley was firm in his opinion that all that staring was downright time consuming. In Sam Uley's world, Jacob's time could be spent doing much more useful things. To Embry, it was disconcerting how focused Jacob could become while practicing his art. Leah didn't care. Seth was too young to understand. Colin too new to know _her_ name. Quil was concerned, but his time was preoccupied with a certain little toddler. Jared was with the shy, unassuming Kim. Paul was more likely to brood with Jacob than raise his voice against him.

Everyone in the pack disliked the new sport Jacob had become a champion of. But no one understood. And no one really could. All they wanted was for the staring to stop.

Regardless, Jacob stared.

Sometimes, if he stared long enough, he could see her. There, lost inside the stucco of his bedroom ceiling. Drowning in the depth of the carpet hole. Framed in the TV. Outlined by the white cabinet.

It was worth it to him.

Every tiny glimpse he caught of her smile was worth all the hours he spent, unblinking, unmoving. Yes, it hurt, deep in the black hole that had opened up inside him. But the pain was numb now. A constant ache he could live with. As long as he could see her, see her big brown eyes in the cup of water mingled with nameless drugs his father urged him to drink everyday, he would be okay.

Jacob Black was lost. But to the man that sat, staring, eyes slightly unfocused, that didn't really matter anymore. No. It really didn't.

There she was. Inside the fern by the door. Smiling, waving, surrounded by children with mops of black hair.

* * *

_That's our first glimpse of the one and only Jacob Black! Though he seems to have lost himself along the way, doesn't he? So. I know it was really short, but do tell me what you think! Next chapter we're going to get some action – be prepared! Until next time, peeps!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	32. The Lost and the Found 2

**Chapter 2**  
The Lost and the Found

* * *

"Jacob, man, you really need to get out."

Another voice, "Yeah, you're starting to smell."

A silence.

"Jacob, hate to break it to you, but I don't read minds. You're going to have to make some sort of noise. At least to let us know you're still alive."

Jacob grunted.

Someone, one of the three boys that stood over him, cheered, "That's right, mate! That's a good step! You wouldn't believe what a relief it is to know you aren't in a vegetative state."

A different voice, "You know what the next step is, big boy? Getting up. I just want to make sure your ass isn't attached to the couch."

Somewhere, deep inside the recesses of Jacob's mind, some part of him acknowledged that was a joke. The boys were 'making jokes'. He didn't really know what that was anymore. He didn't laugh.

"Right. This might be harder than I thought. Um…Embry? You want to take it from here?"

The voice from before spoke up. Someone clapped their hands. "Alright, Jacob. Let's take this slow. First off, let me hear that you're still alive."

Jacob grunted again.

"Good! Now. I want you to stretch out your arms. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Jacob felt the familiar all consuming anger well up inside him. No one understood. No one tried to understand. In a violent gesture that was faster than any a human could ever hope to achieve, he stood up to his full height.

The three boys around him came into focus. Embry, Quil and Paul, his subconscious told him. Friends. Jacob passed his empty eyes over them. He didn't speak to them. And they were too shocked to find words.

There was a moment of silence that seemed to wind on forever. Everyone, staring. Jacob was good at staring. But _she_ wasn't to be found in their similar faces. He had to be alone to find _her_. And he wasn't alone in his house.

So he left, closing the door behind him. The three boys fell out of their induced state of shock, barely in time to see their friend, their lost brother, vanish like smoke into the woods.

They called his name.

But no one answered back.

-

He was walking, straight, with no set path when he came upon her. In some part of his mind, Jacob was glad that he hadn't phased in the forest. Wandering suited him much better. Besides, he might have scared her.

At first, his mind jumped at the possibility. Not many girls stumbled into the deep forest. At least not with the current issued warning of giant bears and missing hikers. Only _she_ had been unafraid. Only _she_ had accepted him for what he truly was.

But it wasn't _her_.

He saw her from the back at first. His hope caught onto the long chocolate brown hair, the slim figure.

But it wasn't _her_.

This girl was barefoot. She was tiny, a lot shorter than _she_ had been. She was dressed shamelessly in bright colors and patterns, a clash of centuries of fashion that _she_ would have never allowed in her simple elegant style.

Jacob felt the weight of _her_ absence, as raw ever. How could he allow himself to even hope that _she_ would return to him. _She_ was one of them now, marked for all eternity to walk the world. A freak of nature. A glitch in the natural cycle. Something that should never have existed. _She_ had chosen the leech over him. Eternity over posterity. He turned to go, wanting nothing more than to drown himself in his stupor. To drown himself into a world were it didn't hurt as much.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

Jacob continued walking. The girl in the mismatched clothes was not his concern.

A rustling behind him, "Wait! You dropped something."

Jacob stopped, turning around slowly.

The girl had turned around. In fact, she had dropped to the forest floor, down on all fours, arms outstretched as she searched with her small hands. She was different from the front. Jacob could see that she had delicate, almost breakable features. A gentle face, a kind smile. But that wasn't what caught Jacob's empty eyes. No, it was the fact that he could clearly see the small photograph that must have dropped from his pocket. It was right in front of her face.

She finally found it, her tiny fingers wrapping around the photo triumphantly. Taking it gently in her hand, she rose to her feet, her green messenger bag swinging haphazardly around her. Her walk was not careful as he expected it to be; it had a bouncy element, a spring to it.

"Here you go," she piped up, her voice filled with a quiet wispy quality.

Jacob didn't respond. With her eyes turned up to him, he couldn't take his eyes off them. They were wide, owl-eyes almost. She had the look of one permanently surprised. They were a misty, unused blue.

This girl was blind.

* * *

_**Important Notice:**_ First of all, I would like to apologize that I have yet to answer all your amazing reviews, don't worry, I will get around to it. _Now, I have critical news:_ as happens every summer, my family packs up and heads over to the most remote village on this planet to visit my family in Spain. The hitch – there is no internet connection in this village. Therefore, I doubt you'll be hearing from me until mid-August. Seeing as you will all probably be occupied reading and re-reading Breaking Dawn, I know that you won't miss me that much. But, please, stick with me! Don't forget this story, and updates will be coming again soon!

Have a lovely summer, peeps!

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	33. The Lost and the Found 3

**Chapter 3**  
The Lost and the Found

* * *

He didn't know what happened.

He could barely explain it. The Man Who Stared could not explain this new impulse, so out of place in his empty, numb body. For the first time in three years, he wanted to speak.

"Thank you," his voice cracked. It sounded odd to his own ears, unused. His first words since _she_ had gone. His first words since that fateful letter.

The girl smiled, a genuine curve of her lips, "You're welcome!" her forehead creased slightly in a frown, "Do you want a cinnamon cough drop?"

He had to work to get the words through his unused lips, "Cinnamon?"

She smiled toothily, "Cinnamon is known to have special properties which aid the sore throat more than any other plant extract."

"No," he answered roughly.

Her face fell slightly, and the large, bright sunflower that she had behind her ear seemed to fade, though her wide blue eyes remained as blank as ever, "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

An inexplicable ache rose up in his throat, accompanied by a fleeting sense of loss. He clutched at his neck, trying to alleviate this feeling which threatened to consume him. For three years he had been numb. For three years he had felt nothing. And now, now he felt…something. Some deep part of him named the feeling: remorse. He was sorry to have upset this girl. He had hurt her feelings – she had offered him kindness and he had thrown it back at her.

"Wait," he croaked, struggling to throw out the words, "I'm sorry. If you have one, I would like a cough drop."

Jacob would have been impressed at how much he had just said, in such a short space of time, but he was too occupied with staring at the blind girl. At his words, her entire being had light up, her easy smile beaming at him.

"Of course!" she plunged her small hands into her green messenger bag, rooting around for a while, a concentrated crease on her forehead before drawing out a colorfully wrapped candy, "Here."

Not knowing exactly what to do, he tentatively reached out, carefully picking up the candy from her outstretched hand. His dark eyes never left her soft, smiling features, as he opened the candy and popped it in his mouth.

"Thank you," he enunciated softly.

The girl nodded, content, "You are very welcome. Do you collect wrappers?"

He was once again startled by the odd question. He frowned, "No."

"Oh," she raised her eyebrows as if that was surprising news to her, "Well, if you want to, keep the wrapper and start your own collection."

He couldn't help blurting the question, rather rudely, "Why would I want to collect wrappers?"

Her eyes widened even more than they already were, shocked he didn't know, "Wrappers make very effective insulators."

He wasn't sure if he should laugh, but another look at her serene and earnest expression convinced him that whatever he thought about the usefulness of wrappers, this girl firmly believed they made good insulators. And really, he wasn't quite sure how to react to that.

"I'll keep it," he amended, trying not to hurt her feelings again.

He wasn't sure why he cared. Because there was nothing left inside him that _she_ hadn't brutally ripped out. He couldn't care.

There was no more world for him than _her_ outline in the stucco ceiling of his bedroom.

Yet there was something about this blind girl, with her wide, unassuming misty blue eyes, her fragile features, and her odd questions. Something about her drove out Jacob Black from inside the Man Who Stared.

"What's your name?" the girl asked lightly, closing her eyes as a ray of fading sunshine broke through the trees above her to light her face.

He hesitated.

His name.

This girl wanted to know his name.

And he wanted her to know.

"Jacob," he almost faltered, "My name is Jacob Black."

The ocean forest, with all its great, ancient trees, fell silent at his deep tremulous voice. The wind rustled through the green leaves and large needles, soothing the quiet with a soft caress.

The girl tried the name on her lips, "Jacob. J-aaa-ccob." Her expressive brow creased in thought as she ran her fingers over her lips. She whispered the name again, and then, coming to a final conclusion, her bright smile returned, lighting up the clearing, "It's a very nice name!"

Jacob would have chuckled, but he wasn't capable of that yet. He settled for a: "I'm glad you like it."

The blind girl laughed lightly and then resolutely extended her hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jacob. I'm Evelyn."

"Evelyn? Well, I guess your name isn't half-bad either," Jacob joked.

And the Man Who Stared stared at himself. He had joked. Jacob was so taken back, that he almost lost his balance in his shock. Jacob Black, who hadn't spoken in three years, had joked. It seemed almost surreal, and for a fleeting second, Jacob was sure that he was dreaming. This odd girl, this sunlight clearing, this…this _joking_. The word itself seemed foreign.

But Evelyn seemed to light up even more than possible at his joke, and her peculiar laugh bounded freely out of her, brightening the entire clearing. Her long brown hair, slightly tangled, fell forward with her as she doubled over slightly in her laughter. When she stopped, her grin was intact, "I'm glad you like it."

Jacob, having nothing else to say, stood, hands in his cut off jeans, staring at the blind girl, staring at Evelyn. He didn't exactly know why he hadn't left yet. He imagined that his friends - Quil, Embry and Paul - would have told Sam of his unexpected and alarming escape by now. They would be out looking for him, thinking - like he knew they were always thinking - that this was it: he had run off again for good or that he had jumped off the cliff and thrown himself on the rocks to die. Yes, they would be out looking for him, and he should go back. But Jacob found that he was content to be here with Evelyn. Maybe it was the fact that she had been the first person he had spoken to since that fateful invitation. Maybe it was her apparent oddity: her mismatched clothes, her bare feet, her tangled hair, the large sunflower stuck behind her ear, her ludicrous questions and manners.

Or maybe it was the fact that Evelyn was blind.

She couldn't see that he had the look of one who didn't eat much. She couldn't see the tangled mess of dirty black hair which hung limply around his face. She couldn't see the dead sunken look of his eyes, the look of one who is tired of the world and embraces death.

Maybe it was the fact that Evelyn couldn't see what Jacob Black had become.

Jacob Black who had lost himself along the way and become the Man Who Stared. A lost shadow of his former self. A shade that clung to vestiges of a brown-eyed girl, the images he caught of her from inside a cup of tea.

Maybe it was the fact that Evelyn couldn't judge Jacob Black for who he had let himself become.

Evelyn suddenly started, swinging her brown hair over her shoulder and readjusting the sunflower so its bright yellow petals were glaringly visible, "Well, good bye, Jacob. It was really nice to meet you!"

Jacob was taken aback, "Good bye?"

Evelyn titled her head sideways in the direction of his voice, a small smile on her lips, "I have to get back home – it's my turn to cook today and I had something special planned."

"Oh," Jacob offered intelligently, thrown off by the sudden announcement of her departure.

Bobbing her head slightly in what Jacob assumed was a nod, she gave him a great full armed wave and started off in a random direction, humming lightly to herself as she hopped along, her bag swinging haphazardly around her. Jacob stared after her, bemused, an expression which didn't last long as a frown took over his sunken features. An overwhelming and overpowering impulse engulfed him: he should help her. Evelyn was blind, bare foot and slightly bizarre at best; he, being a protector, should help her find her way home and ensure she didn't end up lost in the forest.

"Evelyn! Wait!" he called out, hurrying to catch up to her slight shape that was already vanishing into the underbrush by the edge of the clearing.

Evelyn stopped and turned around, a serene smile on her face and her eyebrow slightly raised in half-surprise as he stopped next to her.

"Evelyn," Jacob started, slightly unsure of how to phrase his offer. He was unused to talking to people, and in the end, he shook his head impatiently and decided that the straightforward way would have to suffice, "Let me walk you home."

Evelyn smiled peacefully, "Oh, you don't have to. Thanks though, that's very nice of you to offer."

"It's no problem," Jacob assured her.

Evelyn tilted her head from side to side in a gentle motion which Jacob recognized must be a no, "I would hate to inconvenience you on your afternoon walk."

Jacob gritted his teeth in annoyance – his temper, after three years of not having to deal with people, had been greatly reduced, so much that it almost came close to Paul's legendary shortness. "I insist," he forced himself not to sound as threatening as he felt.

At his slight change of tone, Evelyn frowned, and then her forehead cleared in realization, "Oooh, it's because I'm blind, right?"

She wasn't offended; Jacob could tell that from her understanding expression. And she certainly wasn't accusing him of anything. Evelyn had merely stated a fact. Jacob wasn't quite sure how to react, but he decided that he might as well stick to the truth with someone at least.

"Yes," Jacob stated bluntly.

Evelyn laughed, shaking her head again in that atypical way of hers, "I'm blind since birth, and I know these woods quite well; you really don't need to feel obliged. I promise I'll be fine."

Jacob clenched his fist, "All the same, let me take you home."

"Okay," Evelyn nodded, and started to walk again, her arms swinging gracefully by her side, "I live in La Push, by the way."

Jacob shortened his stride so that he wouldn't lose her with his much longer legs, "So do I."

"What a coincidence!" Evelyn smiled.

Jacob stared down at her, not able to contain the slight quirk of his lips, "Not really."

Evelyn frowned lightly and shook her head against slowly, pursing her lips in thought, "It _is_ a coincidence that we live in the same place: you could live in Forks."

"So there were only two possibilities, that still isn't much of a coincidence," Jacob concluded, noting the way her flower patterned top swayed with her steps.

Evelyn shook her head, "If there is more than one choice, then it counts as a coincidence."

Jacob opened his mouth to argue, but then decided against it. From his short time with Evelyn, he could tell that she wasn't one to budge in her convictions. Aiming to switch the topic of conversation, Jacob looked down at her bare feet.

"Why aren't you wearing shoes?" he blurted out.

"I like to wiggle my toes," Evelyn demonstrated casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Jacob decided to let that topic fall too, before he could protest against the absurdity of her statement. They walked in silence for a while, Evelyn's peaceful humming filling the darkening afternoon. Jacob found that he didn't have to lead, because Evelyn somehow knew exactly where she was going, as random as her twists and turns seemed. Jacob thought of asking her, but stopped himself before he could. He really didn't care how she did it – the thought that she could find her way out of a forest without help was comforting enough for him. And why it comforted him - that did trouble him: he wasn't sure why he suddenly cared if this blind girl could find her way out of the deep forest by herself. She was just another girl, a blind and unusual one at that.

But Evelyn was the first person whom he had spoken to since _she_ had left him broken.

Since _she _had ripped Jacob Black from his body and thrown him away for the wind to carry.

"Here we are!" Evelyn spoke up, smiling slightly as they walked out of the woods and onto the streets of La Push, "I know the way from here, you don't have to walk me all the way home if you don't want to."

Jacob shook his head, "No. If it's okay, I'll walk you all the way."

Evelyn quirked her lips, "Do you find the dangers of the calm suburban streets comparable to those of the dark woods?"

Jacob didn't laugh. "It's the night I don't like," he admitted coarsely, glaring at the barely visible last rays of the dying sun.

The night. That was when they reigned, them, the creatures that by all natural laws should not exist. But most of all, what really scared Jacob, was that at night _she_ could come out. And if he saw _her_, walking through the night as one of the damned, he would know for sure that which he never wanted to know.

Evelyn gently set her small hand on his arm, her face tilted in understanding. She really didn't say anything, but the small gesture froze Jacob, his hollow eyes wide as he stared down at her hand, so white against his dark skin. He turned to look up at her, still in shock at her touch. It was odd, the feeling of her hand, resting on his arm to reassure him. His body coursed with electricity from where her hand rested; an energy that revitalized him and stunned him at the same time.

"We're almost there," Evelyn said softly, smiling a small encouraging smile as she started once again down the street.

Her house was small, a little cottage not that far down from where Sam and Emily lived. The walls were painted a bright yellow, very similar to that of the sunflower she wore on her ear. The front of the house was covered in a blooming garden of the most unusual flowers: cacti, sunflowers, oddly shaped pine trees, what looked to be a cherry tree, and a strawberry vine winding all along the rock garden and up the side of the house. The window planes where a bright blue, giving the house a look that belonged more in a tropical island than in rainy La Push.

"Nice house…very bright" Jacob mused, a little taken back by the irony – the shocking appearance of the blind girl's house.

Evelyn's natural smile widened and her owl-eyes blinked slowly, "I painted it myself, and I also planted the garden."

Jacob looked down at her, raising his eyebrows, "Really?"

She laughed at the evident incredulity in his voice, "With Ryan's help, of course."

Somewhere inside of Jacob, something stirred, lifting its great head at the name. Ryan. The werewolf frowned, and was just about to ask who exactly this Ryan character was when Evelyn skipped forward onto the terracotta pathway, humming once again to herself. As if right on cue, the azure blue door was thrown open as a young man rushed out of the house, running over to them.

"Evelyn!" the young man cried out, his handsome face frowning heavily as he picked up the slim girl and hugged her tightly to him.

Jacob, watching the boy embrace her, felt an inexplicable urge to rip the man apart limb for limb. This boy had no right to lay his filthy hands on Evelyn. Jacob's tall frame started to shake slightly as his fragile control wavered, fueled by his anger towards this guy who had dared to touch Evelyn.

Evelyn laughed, and Jacob shook his head at the sound. "Ryan! Put me down!" she giggled.

Ryan obeyed her, setting her down carefully onto the path. Jacob took this opportunity to study this Ryan, whom he had already decided he hated and would be glad to drag all the way to Alaska. He was tall, not as tall as Jacob, but taller than average. His blonde hair was in a state of disarray, and his light blue eyes that tended towards grey, seemed tired and lined with worry. Ryan must have been older than Jacob was, at least physically. Jacob would have guessed him to be in his early twenties, which bothered Jacob since Evelyn seemed to be closer to his physical age of sixteen.

Ryan didn't even acknowledge him, too preoccupied with Evelyn. "Evelyn, we've discussed this before," the blonde started, sighing resignedly, "You can't just wander off like that. You just can't. I'll go with you if you want to take a walk in the forest, hell, I'll go swimming if you want to!"

Evelyn's soft wispy voice was amused, "You're allergic to water, Ryan."

Jacob grinned inside at this discovery. Forget dragging Ryan all the way to Alaska – he was going to dump him in the ocean.

Ryan frowned, "Even so. My point is, _please don't wander off like that_," he passed a hand over his weary face, "I can't just not know where you are – what if something happened? At least tell me where you're going! But you run off, without a note or anything and I-"

Evelyn, who had clearly not been listening to his little speech, interrupted him, "Oh! I forgot!" she turned where she supposed Jacob would be standing, reaching out with her hand to motion him closer, "Ryan, this is Jacob Black. Jacob, this is my brother, Ryan."

Brother, Ryan was her brother. An unnatural sense of calm washed over the werewolf and he couldn't help the elated feeling of euphoria which took a hold of him. Ryan was Evelyn's brother. Nothing more. Just her brother. Jacob would have grinned, had he still been capable of such a feat.

"Jacob Black?" Ryan backed away slightly when he first noticed him.

Jacob felt the defensive shields which he had built, encase him once more. Ryan made no effort to hide his contempt and slight fear as he looked over him. And Jacob almost laughed out loud when he realized how he must look to this Ryan.

There he was, dressed only in his dirty and shredded cut-off jeans, the rest of his body streaked liberally with mud and grime that he had never made an effort to wash off completely after his shifts. His legs were scratched with long scars that had yet to heal due to his meager appetite, which showed in his thin and emaciated frame. Sunken eyes, dead of all emotion and the limp, long black hair weaved with pine needles and leaves which hung over his hollow face. Yes, Jacob almost laughed at Ryan's hesitant expression. The Jacob Black of that stood before him looked more like an escaped murderer than anything else.

That was what _she_ had done to him.

This was what _she_ had turned him into.

"Evelyn, go inside," Ryan pushed her lightly, his eyes never leaving Jacob.

"Ryan," Evelyn blinked her large blue eyes, pushing her hair gently behind her ears, "You mustn't judge everything by what you see," she told him enigmatically.

Ryan hardly even listened to her, but Jacob heard. And he began to wonder how much Evelyn had guessed at his appearance.

The girl smiled, offering Jacob an airy wave, "Bye, Jacob!"

Jacob breathed out quietly, "Good bye, Evelyn."

The second Evelyn had shut the door behind her, Ryan let go of all pretense.

"You're that kid that ran away some years ago, aren't you?" Ryan breathed in heavily through his nose, his eyes darkening considerably.

Jacob didn't respond, his empty eyes staring at Ryan hollowly.

Ryan sucked in a shaky breath, "Look, I don't care who the hell you are, but if you even so much as come near Evelyn again, you'll regret it."

This time, Jacob did laugh. But it almost wasn't a laugh. It was a sound from deep inside his throat, a desperate and bordering on mad guffaw that caused Ryan to flinch despite his heavy threat. The laugh lasted a few seconds, and then Jacob stopped abruptly, the suddenness scaring Ryan nearly as much as the laugh had.

Jacob leaned forward, inching his face so that he was millimeters away from Ryan's paling face. He didn't speak. Instead, he drew back his lips in what would have been a mad wolfish grin, showing off all his sharp, dangerous, gleaming, white teeth.

And then, just like that, Jacob drew back, putting his hands in his pockets. Ryan swayed on spot, trying to a great extent to regain some sort of composure.

But he really shouldn't have bothered.

Jacob was already gone.

* * *

_Hello, there! I hope all of you had a great summer, but I really shouldn't doubt it, should I? I mean, Breaking Dawn _did_ come out August 2__nd__… ;) _

_I have two important things to say. First: My email deleted all messages sent by fanfiction. I think I have it sorted out now, but because of that glitch, I will be unable to reply to all reviews that I had yet to reply to. I am so sorry – it won't happen again. A big Jacob hug for all as an apology. Second: I would like to insert a disclaimer for certain aspects of _The Fast and the Furious_ which belong to _Furuba_. I am claiming no rights whatsoever. _

_Now, do tell me, how did you like our peculiar, blind Evelyn? And our confused and lost Jacob Black? Do let me know, I love to read all your comments, suggestions, questions and general random musings!_

_Oh – and, I forgot: I have yet to read Breaking Dawn, due to the fact that I couldn't get a copy until yesterday, thus, I would greatly appreciate if you guys would try to stay away from mentioning any key points! Thanks! :)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	34. The Lost and the Found 4

**Chapter 4**  
The Lost and the Found

* * *

Jacob shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot as he stared impatiently at the peculiar blue, and frustratingly closed, door. He huffed slightly and knocked testily for the third time.

Jacob couldn't stop thinking about her.

Not _her_. That would not have worried Jacob.

No. Not _her_, but her – Evelyn.

Evelyn, who lived in a canary yellow house with bright blue window planes. Evelyn, who liked to walk bare foot through the deep forest. Evelyn, who wore a sunflower behind her ear. Evelyn, who was blind.

Jacob lifted his fist and knocked again, willing himself to be patient; breaking down the ridiculous colored door was starting to look more appealing with every passing second.

He didn't really know why he was going to see her.

Perhaps it was because he wanted to talk, and he couldn't make himself speak with anyone else – the words merely stuck in his throat. Perhaps it was because for the first time, no one was judging him or pitying him. There were no other reasons Jacob could offer to explain why he suddenly wanted to see this odd blind girl. Or why he was wearing a shirt for the first time in months.

Then, just when Jacob was starting to give serious thought to actually breaking down the door, it swung open, revealing a very sleepy looking Evelyn.

"Good morning!" she smiled softly, her eyes closing slightly, "Who is it?"

For a second, Jacob couldn't even breathe. His system seemed to be failing him as he took her in. Her long brown hair was a mess of tangles running down her back, and the sunflower behind her ear was gone. She was swamped in an overly large, pink t-shirt that fell down to the top of her knees.

She looked normal.

But, for all the change in her appearance, she was still barefoot, wiggling her toes slightly as she waited for an answer. Jacob felt something that would have resembled a smile twitch on his face.

"It's me. Jacob," he forced out, his voice still hoarse.

Evelyn light up, a large smile taking over her delicate features, "Jacob! I didn't imagine you would be an early riser."

"I'm not," Jacob granted.

She nodded in her peculiar way, "Of course. Why did you wake up early today?" her eyes widened and she leaned forward slightly, "Did you need more wrappers for your collection?"

The sun was still rising in the sky, which was the grey so familiar to the Olympic Peninsula, and Jacob could feel the push and pull of a soft northern breeze.

Jacob swallowed, clearing his dry throat, "I can't stop thinking about you."

Evelyn didn't look surprised.

She didn't blush either.

Instead, she nodded; a slight crease of a frown on her forehead, "I'm sorry."

Jacob remained silent, observing her rapidly changing emotions on her open face.

She finally settled on concern and tipped forward precariously. Jacob tensed for a second, irrationally afraid that she might fall forward and hurt herself. But he shouldn't have worried; her balance was stable as she offered her open hand to the air.

He took it without a second thought, her small hand fitting comfortably inside his large warm palm. Evelyn smiled, and pulled him forward.

The contrast was shocking. There was nothing inside the house that hinted at the bleak, grey clouds and hesitant pale tendrils of fighting sun of Washington State. Instead, the turquoise and deep orchid purple seemed to scream with the vitality of the Caribbean. Needless to say, Jacob once again found the innate irony of Evelyn's ostentatious house a surprise.

He hadn't really expected the charade to continue inside.

She led him into the house, her bare feet padding silently on the beach-dried sun wood floors, and her small hand holding onto him with unexpected force for her slight and delicate figure. He had assumed she would take him to the living room, or perhaps her bedroom – which Jacob was curious to see: he half-expected the walls to be covered with colorful candy wrappers – so he was surprised when she stopped abruptly at the door of the kitchen.

"There are apples and oranges in a bowl on the counter," Evelyn smiled, her face titling slightly in his direction, "I'll be right down. I have to take a shower, or I won't be able to get rid of all the cobwebs in my head."

Jacob raised his eyebrows. Cobwebs? But he knew better than to question her on her odd habits, so he let it slide. Letting go of her hand, he strode into the bright kitchen, immediately seeking out the fruit bowl and sorting through the green and red apples. He didn't really like oranges all that much.

Evelyn paused, her hand reaching out to touch the worn wood of the archway, "Jacob?"

He heard the slight note of hesitation in her normally bright voice.

She chewed her lip, and Jacob felt a pang of pain sear his being as he remembered that _she_ had done that a lot, "Jacob, why can't you stop thinking of me?"

He was blunt, "I don't know."

Evelyn's fingers slid down the soft wood of the archway, "Oh."

Jacob went back to sorting through the apples, finally finding one that pleased him. He didn't toss it into the air, nor did he clean it off on his shirt. The old Jacob would have done those things. But he was hardly Jacob anymore. The werewolf bit into the red apple unceremoniously.

She still hadn't moved.

Jacob suddenly felt a rush of impatience burn through his veins like fire.

He spoke much more harshly that he had intended to, and he knew that his words were cut and cruel, "I _shouldn't_ be thinking of you!" he bellowed, throwing the half-eaten apple across the kitchen, where it threw a tower of pans clashing to the floor, "I should be thinking of _her_. Another girl! A _better_ girl!"

Jacob clenched his fist together tightly, feeling the tremors that were racing up and down his spine. His dark eyes were fixed on the floor and his voice was a lethal hiss, "_She_ is one I should be thinking about. Not you. _She_ is everything to me. And you ruined it. YOU RUINED IT!"

The silence was shattering.

Nothing could be heard except the vibrating ringing of the pans as they stabilized themselves on the floor. Jacob's harsh breathing resounded heavily in the small bright kitchen.

Evelyn was the first to move.

Jacob was struggling to get himself under control, his nostrils flaring, and he didn't see her until she reached out gently to set her hand on his tense arm. Jacob flinched. He would have drawn his arm away, but her grip was surprisingly strong for a girl her size.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she smiled slightly, a sad sort of smile that expressed much more than words could ever hope to convey. Jacob found himself mesmerized; his temper vanished into thin air, as he stared at her calm face.

She understood.

Evelyn, the odd blind girl, understood him.

And just like that, she was gone, her quiet steps carrying her up the stairs. Jacob was left alone in the bright kitchen.

For a second, he struggled to breathe. The brightness of the kitchen, the sickening happiness of the entire set up gagged him, and he felt the atmosphere constricting around him.

The werewolf threw himself out of the room, trying to gain control over his shaking body again. When he looked up, he had to blink twice, because the living room was just as startling as the other rooms in the house. There was one sofa; a funky shape that Jacob couldn't even imagine would be comfortable for sitting, in a bright canary yellow. A hammock was hung in another corner, bursting with sequined cushions reminiscent of Arabian nights.

And, in the middle of the room, was a collage of photographs.

Jacob felt curiosity get the best of him and he leaned forward.

He recognized her immediately. It was impossible to miss the haphazard outfits and her tangled brown hair.

There she was, not older than three, smiling serenely from inside the arms of a woman who was unmistakably her mother. Her mother was grinning down at her sleeping child, her brown hair up in a hurried ponytail and her eyes, the cobalt blue eyes that Evelyn would have inherited if not for the permanent veil that covered them, were shining with a light of their own. In another photograph was a man that Jacob knew must be her father. He was laughing in all the pictures – it seemed almost as if a broad grin was etched permanently on his face. His skin was dark, giving away his Native American ancestry, and his eyes were a grey that showed up in Ryan. Ryan, as blond in his childhood as he was now, was tossing Evelyn up into the air in another picture, and Jacob could almost hear her laughter. There were a few pictures with only her parents, both of them smiling at each other, sharing secrets with their eyes. And then, in the middle, amid all the strewn pictures was a family portrait. The picture was not old at all; in fact, it could be new for all that Jacob knew.

It was the epitome of the happy family. Her father was grinning unabashedly, his eyes trained on her mother's slight figure. Her mother was almost falling back in laughter, reaching out to Ryan, who was raising his eyebrows with a slight smile on his tired features.

And Evelyn, Evelyn was right in the middle. Her mother had a reassuring hand on her brown head, and Ryan was holding her hand tightly clasped in his. Her father was leaning towards her, his hand probably on her back.

But it was her face that caught Jacob's attention.

She wasn't laughing. She wasn't smiling.

Jacob frowned.

She looked scared.

"Jacob?"

Evelyn's voice, as light as it was, startled Jacob. The werewolf jumped up, too fast and too roughly, knocking over a vase of what looked to be daffodils onto the floor. It tumbled, spilling all over the carpet.

But the broken flowers were forgotten on the floor.

Jacob couldn't tear his eyes off Evelyn.

In a sudden burst of energy he crossed the room, coming to stand before her, his eyes searing into her.

Evelyn's smile vanished, replaced by a small concerned frown.

Jacob's voice was nothing more than a breath of air, "Why were you scared?"

Her head fell down, and for a second, Jacob thought he glimpsed a spark of something in her blank eyes. Then, her small hand reached out, and she silently cradled his much bigger hand in hers.

Evelyn raised her head once more, and this time, a sad smile on her lips.

"Why are you scared?"

* * *

_Okay. First of all, I would like to apologize. Yes, I know…it's been a while, hasn't it? ::ducks flying food being thrown at her head:: In my defense, I have had a very busy and hectic life recently, and writing has been the least of my concerns. It was your very heartwarming and awesome reviews that brought me back. So, this is for you guys! Thanks for sticking with me! :)_

_Second order of business: Breaking Dawn and the movie. On Breaking Dawn – Jacob's fate in Breaking Dawn was just cruel. The Cullen Family pet for eternity? That's a slight bit harsh. And Renesmee? What kind of name is that anyways? So. Needless to say, such events will be COMPLETELY ignored in this story. As for the movie: I would love to share my opinion, and mostly, love to hear yours! Please let me know what you thought of it in your reviews! _

_To close, thanks for sticking with me, and expect more soon! :)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	35. The Lost and the Found 5

**Chapter 5**  
The Lost and the Found

* * *

"What's your favorite color?" Evelyn spoke up, her small feet sliding over the rocks.

Jacob had avoided the beach.

To him, the beach was irrevocably intertwined with _her_. The beach was where he had first met _her_. The beach was where he had confessed to _her_. The beach was where he had told her about the nature of that…that _thing_ that would steal _her_ away. The smooth stones of the beach were littered with thousands of lost hopes, dreams and memories. All of _her_.

The beach was _her_.

And yet, when Evelyn had lightly taken his hand, in that soft, yet strong, way that so characterized the slight blind girl, and dragged him to First Beach, he found himself unable to tear himself away.

The truth was, when he walked down the beach with Evelyn, he couldn't think of _her_.

When he was with Evelyn, _she_ eluded him.

And that bothered him.

"I don't have a favorite color," Jacob stated flatly, thrusting his hands into his pockets and turning his head tersely away.

Evelyn smiled calmly, "You like all colors then. Equally."

Jacob scoffed, the sound coming out more like a derisive grunt.

But Evelyn didn't count herself defeated, "Yes. All the colors," she paused, closing her eyes, her smile intact, "It fits you, Jacob."

Jacob shook his head impatiently, his lips firmly pursed into a thin line, "No. No color."

The werewolf was surprised when the girl burst into laughter, twirling around in a perfect circle. Her brown hair caught in the breeze and her eyes that would have been a startling blue shone in the rising light of the sun.

"Jacob!" Evelyn reprimanded, grinning, "Are you attempting to tell that you are the absence of color?"

Jacob couldn't respond. The sight of her: twirling on spot, her long brown hair flying, her face flushed with the cold bite of the morning sea wind, was giving him a sensory overload. He would have answered; but he couldn't make his mouth muscles respond, much less find the air necessary in his lungs.

She tipped forward, her nose scrunching up in the most adorable of ways, as she reached up and poked Jacob, "Don't hide from yourself, Jacob Black."

And just like that, her flippant mood vanished, and she resumed her even strides down the shore, humming lightly to herself.

"Evelyn!" Jacob had yet to move.

She stopped, the breeze toying with her embroidered white skirt, and turned, her head tilting slightly.

The werewolf was trembling, his sunken eyes dark and haunted. "I am not hiding from myself," he rasped.

She didn't say anything. Instead, Evelyn did three things in sequenced order: she raised her eyebrows, curled her lips in a knowing smile, and held out her hand.

Jacob hesitated. His tall frame weary and slightly apprehensive.

Evelyn waited, frozen in the still morning, outlined by the orange rays of the rising sun.

And then Jacob stepped forth, and took her hand.

If Evelyn would not have been blind, perhaps she would have seen the small, almost imperceptible wisp of a smile that shone briefly on Jacob's dark face. But, truth be told, Evelyn didn't need sight to see his smile. It was visible in the warmth of his hand around hers and in the slight pressure of his fingers.

And she found herself smiling too.

ooo

"What color is the sky?" Evelyn trailed her fingers upwards, as if to touch the heavens.

Jacob cast an uninterested eye up, "Grey."

"Oh," Evelyn paused, pursing her lips, "Are there any clouds?"

This time, he didn't even bother to look up, "Yeah."

"Are they white?"

Jacob felt like smiling, but he couldn't quite get there, "Clouds are always white."

"The sea," she said the name almost reverently, her long eyelashes brushing her cheeks as she whispered into the air, "What color is the sea?"

"Blue."

Evelyn didn't seem content with the answer, tilting her head slightly.

Jacob let out a frustrated sigh, "Maybe green."

Still not completely satisfied, "Green?"

The werewolf bristled, "Why do you care about color so much? You're blind," he stated roughly.

She wasn't affected by his callous tone. Instead, her perpetually calm smile reappeared, "Close your eyes Jacob."

He was going to say no, but the noise caught in his throat. The Man Who Stared complained loudly: why was he even walking with this bizarre girl? His time could be better spent trying to find the familiar heart-shaped face with those impossibly soft chocolate brown eyes in the objects around him. His time could be better spent feeding that constant numb ache inside him; remembering the way _her_ lips felt on his, the softness of _her_ skin, the sound of _her_ laugh, the sparkle in _her_ eyes. His time could be better spent remembering the way _she_ had loved him once. But somehow, though his mind pushed Evelyn away, clinging to those fragile memories of the girl he had loved, he resisted – and when the Man Who Stared made to pull away, Jacob Black stayed.

He didn't understand.

He couldn't understand.

He didn't want to understand.

Jacob closed his eyes, his hands in his pockets, "Okay."

"What do you hear?" her voice asked, somewhere off to his right.

Nothing. It was a quiet morning, with no other people around to provide a backdrop of chatter, not even a seagull to cry out in that annoying hyena-like laughter.

Jacob gritted his teeth in annoyance and breathed heavily through his nose, "Nothing."

He could imagine her radiating smile, "Really?"

The werewolf was half-tempted to just open his eyes and pretend – after all, she _was_ blind, but, for some reason he couldn't really explain, he decided to humor her. He concentrated, shutting his eyes more tightly.

"The sea, do you hear the waves?" she proposed.

Her voice.

He could hear her voice. It was odd; he had never really grasped the peculiar quirks that made up her unique voice. At first, it was wispy, a half-whisper: it was a reverent breath, as if she was concerned about breaking apart a symphony. It was calm. Always peaceful and self-assured – everything that she said she fully believed. But it was also like a bubbling stream, full of life and sunshine, reminiscent of chimes.

It was like a breath of fresh air.

Jacob smiled. A real, genuine smile, "I can hear you."

She was probably smiling in that disconcertingly imperturbable way of hers, "What color am I?"

This time, he didn't dismiss her - perhaps it was the lack of sleep or maybe the conviction in her words. Jacob absorbed her voice. He listened. And he understood.

Everything: every trilling octave of the seagull above, soothing lullaby of the waves, muted tone of the insistent breeze, even rhythm of the stones shifting under his feet – everything had a personality, a color, a mood. Everything talked. And he heard.

"Blue, maybe" Jacob started, careful with his words, "But a bright blue, a very bright blue. Or white. No. No – yellow," his hoarse voice seemed happy with the choice, "Yes, yellow like the sun."

Her voice was soft as always, "Color is not just a single-faceted, detached wavelength reflected from a certain chemical mix. Color is…emotions. Life."

Jacob opened his eyes and got caught in Evelyn's perpetual blank stare. It was just them, the sea and the sky. Nothing more. Nothing less.

She blinked her large blue eyes, "Everything has a voice, all you have to do is listen."

She fell silent, and Jacob didn't feel the need to say anything.

He didn't know how long they stood there for. Maybe a minute, maybe hours. It didn't matter. Jacob was accustomed to silence. Evelyn had shut her eyes, her long brown hair flying in the breeze around her, playing with the heavens. For once, Jacob didn't feel the gaping hole opening up inside him. He felt comfortable, standing here with Evelyn.

A slow smile began to spread on the odd girl's face, robbing the silence of its grave and almost poignant air.

Jacob was almost scared.

"I have to say hello to the ocean vertebrae," Evelyn was now grinning. And not because of the utter absurdity of what she had just said.

"Yeah, sure. Completely understand," Jacob really tried to hide the sarcastic bite of mockery in his voice.

Evelyn either didn't hear it of completely misunderstood it. With a happy twirl and a loud, almost obnoxious, humming of what Jacob strongly suspected was _Jingle Bells_, she ran into the ocean and dove headfirst, fully clothed, under the waves.

It took him a few seconds to regain his senses. For one, the werewolf was too shocked by the girl's abrupt and, in his opinion, highly unreasonable, mood swings. Furthermore, Jacob Black found himself completely and utterly confused.

Evelyn was downright the most baffling girl he had ever met.

Not to mention deranged, a bit psychotic, and just plain weird.

And despite this long interminable list of synonyms he was sure he could come up with, Evelyn was…how could he put it? Fascinating.

Fascinating.

Jacob Black thought that Evelyn was fascinating.

* * *

_Slightly short, but full of important interaction between our lost werewolf and the, one-and-only_, fascinating_ Evelyn. So. Drop me a line, let me know what's on your mind! :)_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


	36. The Lost and the Found 6

**Chapter 6**  
The Lost and the Found

* * *

"EVELYN!"

Jacob whipped his head around, startled by the slightly high-pitched scream.

It was Ryan.

The boy was sprinting over the grassy banks of the beach, ripping off his shirt in the process. He flew by the amused werewolf, and launched himself into the Pacific Ocean. In a series of frantic splashes that blatantly gave away the lack of any swimming expertise Ryan possessed, the boy gurgled and finally managed to pull out a very serene and smiling Evelyn. It took Ryan another minute to struggle his way out of the water, huffing and puffing uselessly until he managed to reach a point where his feet touched ground. It was quite dramatic, actually; the manner in which Ryan dragged Evelyn onto the rocks of the beach and collapsed.

Jacob watched, unimpressed.

"EVELYN! EVELYN! ARE YOU OKAY?" Ryan hysterically shook his sister.

Evelyn laughed.

Ryan frowned.

"God Damnit, Evelyn!" the boy scowled, "How many times have I told you? How many times? The _one day_ I take off work, I wake up and I find you _gone. _How any times have I told you: _let me _know! Do we need to go over this _again_?"

Evelyn leaned forward, placing a drenched hand on her brother's arm. She smiled peacefully, "Ryan, I always take a morning walk to the beach."

Ryan was at lost for words, spluttering pointlessly, "I –I…y-you…morning walks? S-Since when? What? Evelyn! No!"

Evelyn nodded, "Yes. Every morning. And as miraculous as it may seem, Ryan, I'm fine. As you can see, I have yet to suffer a debilitating injury."

Jacob's first mistake was to chuckle.

Ryan's eyes landed venomously on Jacob, who had yet to move during the entire incident. The boy carefully, never breaking eye contact, got on his feet.

"_You_," Ryan whispered dangerously.

Jacob raised an eyebrow.

Ryan stalked forward; bare-chested, shivering violently from the cold, his nice black pants completely sodden through with sea water, his lips turning an odd shade of purple, "You. Jacob Black. How dare you? How _dare you come near my sister_!"

Jacob's second mistake was to smile.

Ryan snarled.

Evelyn was the one to speak up, "Ryan. Jacob is my friend."

The brother shook his head savagely, his grey eyes never leaving Jacob's impassive features, "No, Evelyn. No. Jacob Black," he spit his name as if it were the worst of insults, "Jacob Black is _not_ your friend. And he _never _will be. Never."

"Ryan, you're being very rude," Evelyn pursed her lips.

"Evelyn, you're blind," Ryan threw right back at her, "You can't see him. Jacob Black is not someone I approve for you to hang around."

She sighed tiredly, "Sight is misleading at times, Ryan. You don't know Jacob, how can you judge him so quickly?"

"Oh," Ryan laughed dryly, "Oh, I _know _who Jacob Black is," he was talking to Jacob now, his eyes lethal, "I've heard about you. You ran away for _three _years: leaving behind your family, your friends, your _father_ without even a note. And then, you come back like the prodigal son, and just sit there immobile like a madman. You have issues. AND, I know you're part of Sam Uley's gang. You're a mute, a felon, a good-for-nothing lunatic and I _never want to see you near my sister again_! _Do you hear me_?" he was spitting, red-faced by now, "DO YOU HEAR ME?"

There was a still silence - Ryan panting as he tried to regain his breath, his gasps of air condensing into white puffs in the cold morning air. The beach seemed to stretch forever in a continuum of grey stones and waves lapped gently at the beach. Evelyn was motionless, her blue eyes wide and slightly disappointed.

Jacob's third mistake was to grin.

For Ryan, that was the last straw. He threw himself at Jacob, apparently intending to fight him.

A growl resounded through the beach.

Ryan never got to even touch Jacob. In a split second, he was violently thrown back as Embry Call came to stand imposingly in front of Jacob, his usually easy smile replaced with a dangerous snarl.

"What do you think you're doing?" Embry intoned deeply, glaring at the shivering blonde who was beginning to develop odd red blisters all over his skin. Evelyn started, surprised at the new voice.

Ryan's expression of shock quickly deteriorated into a defiant line. He winced as he rose to his feet, "Keeping your _friend_ away from my sister."

Embry caught the ingrained slur and growled, a terrifying predatory sound. Jacob remained as unexpressive as ever behind Embry, his dark eyes never leaving Evelyn's face.

"Ryan, stop. Right now. You're being unreasonable. And you're embarrassing yourself. Stop," Evelyn's voice was firm, commanding.

Ryan squared his shoulders, "It's my job to protect you. My job. Ever since…," his eyes momentarily flooded with anguish. It was gone as quickly as it came, "I have to protect you, look out for your best interests. And it is _not_ in your best interests to hang out with Jacob Black."

"I think you should listen to your sister," Embry advised menacingly.

Ryan's head snapped right back up, "Don't tell me what to do."

Evelyn had stepped between the new voice and her brother, "Ryan," she warned.

Ryan grabbed her arm and placed her behind him, "Don't get near them, Evelyn. These people are _dangerous_."

"Seriously, Ryan. Stop," Evelyn huffed, and Jacob had the strong inclination that the girl would have rolled her eyes, had she been capable of it.

The shivering boy tried to put on a bold front, fixing his eyes on the two imposing werewolves, "You don't frighten me."

Embry grinned, raising his eyebrows, "Wouldn't dream of it," then the pretext vanished, "Go home. Now."

Ryan came to his senses. Embry wasn't going to back down. Jacob was obviously not going to say anything. And, frankly, Ryan didn't have a chance in a million against the two werewolves. The boy opened his mouth, closed it, and then let out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. Taking Evelyn's hand, he turned back around, dragging her up the grassy bank, away from the sound of the ocean.

"Good bye, Jacob," came Evelyn soft voice.

Jacob started at hearing his name, his hard features softening if just for a second. "Good bye, Evelyn," he whispered.

And then she was gone.

Jacob tried to disappear. He really did – the last thing he wanted was a conversation with Embry after what had happened. Of course, Embry disagreed.

"HEY! Jacob! Wait!" Embry called out, rushing after his brooding friend.

Jacob kept walking.

"You know, a simple thanks would have been enough," Embry piped up sarcastically, matching Jacob's stride. The sun was much higher in the sky now, shining on the ocean in an uncharacteristic manner for the Olympic Peninsula.

Jacob spoke up without preamble, "Don't tell anyone."

Embry half-smiled to himself, his eyes kind, "That's her, isn't it? The one you always think about? I didn't think she was real."

The other werewolf swiveled to face him, showing more emotion than Embry had seen in a very long time. Jacob was surprised, confused…and was that embarrassment?

Embry chuckled, trying his best not to overwhelm his friend or cause Jacob to shrink to back into his shell, "Don't worry – I'm the only one that runs patrols with you, and I haven't told anyone. I rather you think about this - what's her name? Evelyn? – than that creepy emo numbness you specialize in. It's a nice change."

Jacob was slightly taken back, but for the first time since that letter, he felt a smile tugging at his face.

Embry saw it, and his grin grew wider.

Jacob Black, _the Jacob Black_ was coming back.

And somehow, that blind girl had everything to do with it.

Jacob cleared his throat, turning his eyes upward towards the sun, shoving his hands inside his pockets, "I didn't need rescuing by the way, I was fine back there."

Embry laughed, punching Jacob's arm lightly - by werewolf standards, "Hey! No one lays a hand on _my_ friend! I got your back, need me or not," he leaned in conspiratorially, "Besides, to tell the truth, it wasn't really you I was worried about. I don't think Sam would be too happy if he heard you mangled a civilian beyond recognition."

"Sure, sure," Jacob humored him, rolling his eyes.

Embry pushed him, "What's with this Ryan-character anyways?"

Jacob grinned, "He's jealous."

"Oh, of course. Why didn't I think of that myself?" Embry mocked good-naturedly.

The mood turned more serious as the wind pushed against them, spraying them with the cusps of the waves.

Embry stretched, glancing at Jacob through the side of his eyes, "So…you gonna to see Evelyn again?"

Jacob looked down at his feet, kicking a rock absentmindedly. Finally, he looked up, a determined glint in his dark eyes.

"Yes."

* * *

_It has been a while, no? I want to deeply thank all of you who dropped off a review for this story even though my updating was seriously lacking: your encouragements keep me writing, even though life gets more and more hectic. :)_

_On another note: the old Jacob Black is resurfacing, lady and gentlemen! Still not quite there yet, but we're starting to see glimpses. And what do you think of Ryan? Slightly temperamental, don't you agree? Not to mention overly protective. But then again, that seems to be a pattern with all the men in La Push, so maybe it's not that big of a deal…;) _

_Happy holidays!_

_**Anele**_Tiger**.**


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